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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26520943">I'll Get You Lost (But I'm Havin' Fun)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevil_yaknow/pseuds/thedevil_yaknow'>thedevil_yaknow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Harley Quinn (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little slow burn, F/F, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, and a lot of fluff and angst, be gentle lol, it's my first fic, lots of other characters make small appearances, mature rating will be earned later on, or lil easter eggs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:22:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>39,909</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26520943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevil_yaknow/pseuds/thedevil_yaknow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley is moving on from the past and is tryn' to make something of herself in the real world. Her days are full of swirling thoughts of classes, new faces and a certain red-haired woman (with legs for days). </p><p>Unfortunately, the past proves harder to run from than Harley expected, but she won't have to face it alone anymore.</p><p>OR the college AU with a sprinkling of fluff, angst and wlw sexual tension~</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy, Harlivy, Pamela Isley &amp; Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>164</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Ol' College Try</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, bee - </em> </p><p>The terrible screeching of Harley’s alarm came to a quick stop as she smacked at her phone screen next to her on her bed. “<em> Nooooo </em> . I. Don’t. Wanna.”, the blonde spoke through a groan as she stretched in a zealous fashion. Despite her protests, Harley found herself slinging her blankets off and kicking her toned legs up into the air, crossing her ankles playfully. She let out a soft “ <em> hum </em>” as she rubbed her thighs and dreamily traced the lines of her self-inflicted tattoos with her short nails. A simple “J” scratched into her skin reminded Harley of a time in her life, not-so-long ago, when she was just a girl who met a boy who she loved more than she ever thought she’d be able to love anyone. Her chipped black nail polish traced the red “X” that ran through that same “J”. That mark reminded her of bruises on her arms and face, scars from a past life that she had covered with ink and nights filled with whiskey that burnt back the taste of salty tears. </p><p>Harley knew that this was a chance for her life to change for the better, even if she felt a sense of loneliness in the mornings. Her cold sheets felt extra empty every day. She hadn’t been alone in a while. Just outta high school, that’s when she met Jay for the first time. Harley snuck into a bar when she was just barely legal – a bittersweet 18th birthday. That’s what that was, a bittersweet day that she would never forget.  </p><p>There was a band playin’ out in Boston. A quick 5-hour bus ride later, a little flirtin’ with one of the bouncers and she was in. That was Harley. Impetuous, reckless and just on the edge of almost feeling too much but somehow, not enough. Always craving the next thing. That’s where Jay was, bordering on the line of “too much” and “not enough”. Sitting there at the bar, nursing a vodka on ice as the band thrashed on. He was just <em> so  </em>charmin’. When he would speak, he bit at the air like a rabid coyote. The man was so full of fire, vigor and venom. Sometimes when he bit at the air with those jagged teeth of his, he’d just snap Harley a little, too.  </p><p>Well, a little turned into a whole lot as the weeks turned into months, and before she knew it, Harley had been with Jay for year. A long year. It felt like the longest year of her life. Harley had loved Jay so much. So much she would have done just about anything to make him feel warmth in his heart. Before she knew it, one year of her life quickly turned into two, and eventually three, and for all of Jay’s “passion” and “vigor”, the marks he left on Harley never got any lighter regardless of how hard she tried to show him she cared. How many meals she cooked him, how many nights she let him run his rough hands and lips all over her even when she knew he’d been out doing the same to other women against the walls of bathrooms in dive bars. She ran her fingers through his dyed hair anyway, tangling up strands that were the color of the venom that held onto his crooked smile.  <br/> <br/>As she traced that red “X” she could practically smell the liquor on those jagged teeth and feel the warmth of a fresh cut forming across her cheek. Harley grabbed the bottoms of her feet, pulling herself into a ball on her bed for a moment, taking in the smell of her clean sheets and cold morning air. With a small “<em>huff</em>” the blonde threw her body out of her bed, landing on her feet, her toes hit the cold wood of her apartment floor. She padded her way through her tiny apartment brushing her teeth and putting jeans on, hopping from the bedroom to bathroom.  </p><p>Grabbing her bag from the “well-loved”, and most certainly second-hand sofa, Harley slipped on a pair of sneakers and ran out the front door. Taking the extra time to make sure all three of her locks were secure Harley checked the time on her phone to make sure she wasn’t running too late.  </p><p>“9:46... <em> Perfecto!</em>”, the blonde bounced down the hall of her apartment complex. Her bag smacking her back softly as she sprinted down the stairs and rounded the corner to burst through the front door. Harley immediately realized the air was chilled and it reminded her of fall in Brooklyn. Part of her missed Bensonhurst. Her hometown wasn’t the biggest or  best  or  nothin ’ but Lenny’s had a mean slice of pizza that hit  <em> just right </em> during the colder months.  </p><p>Harley creeped into the building that held her classroom. The ceilings were so high, it felt as if the building could have caved in and swallowed her up. It would surely leave nothing behind in its wake. The environment was strange to her and to say she felt out of place was a real understatement. The scent of new textbooks seemed to permeate the air despite the empty halls. She continued up the stairs to the right, each step seemed to be taking longer and longer to navigate, almost as if she was moving in slow motion or her like her shoes weighed 10lbs each all of a sudden. As her checkered shoes hit each step her mind swirled with thoughts of Jay, Brooklyn and her Ma.  That <em> may  </em>have been the other thing she missed about Bensonhurst. Her Ma. </p><p>Her Pa was long gone by now, not that it much mattered to Harley. Hell, he had all but sold her for beer when she was just a kid. He left years ago, leavin’ her and her Ma to fend for themselves. Their relationship was never great because of that. Harley was often left working extra shifts at any local restaurants that would take her. She’d work ‘til her feet felt like they would fall off trying to make a dime. The bills wouldn’t pay themselves, ya know? Her Ma was never home, she was always at the office working for little to no pay. It was all they could do to keep the house once Pa ran off to fuck knows where. Ma wasn’t too happy when she told her she was going off to school, but Ma hadn't been happy when she ran off with Jay either, honestly. Harley definitely felt like she let her Ma down when she told her she was finally going to college, to get an education and make somethin’ of herself. Become a doctor, really help people.  </p><p>Well, she didn’t so much “feel” she let her Ma down... More like she knew it, considering her Ma’s voice was still ringing in her ears. Their last conversation had not been pleasant, to say the least.  She knew that deep down her mother still loved her, but she also knew that she had to move on. Move on from Bensonhurst, from Jay, from that shitty bar in Boston, that night three years ago... Well, from a lot of things that she kept tryna push deep down. Knowing that was the truth still didn’t make it any easier and it sure as hell didn’t stop the sting of her Ma yelling at her as she dragged her bags out the door to catch the fastest bus to Gotham.  </p><p>Lost in thought, Harley soon found her way to the door of her classroom. She quickly checked her phone as she stepped in the doorway. Through the crack on her screen she could read out “9:54 AM”. For, perhaps, the first time in her 21 years on Earth, Harley wasn’t late for something. ‘<em> Heh, not too bad, Harleen </em>’, she thought to herself as she walked down the row between the desks. She adjusted her bag and finally looked up at the expansive room in front of her.  </p><p>Laid out in front of her were several rows of desks facing a marker board and podium. All the seats were empty except for one that was closer to the front than she would normally be comfortable with. Harley swallowed her fear and decided to choose a seat a few down from the occupied desk. She took a deep breath and walked towards the front row, assuming it’d be best to participate like a full-fledged adult lady.  </p><p>As Harley got closer, she noticed the occupant of seat was leaned over her notebook meticulously jotting things down. Harley couldn’t see much else through a curtain of voluptuous red hair. The woman’s hair flowed down to her papers, moving along as she wrote down whatever it was she was working on. ‘<em> I bet her hair is  </em> <em> soooo </em> <em>  super soft </em> ’, Harley thought as she moved her eyes down from a sea of red hair to the woman’s crossed legs. Harley’s baby blues were transfixed by the woman’s long legs, one bouncing up and down, showing clear signs excess energy - ‘ <em> Or anxiousness </em> ’, Harley thought to herself. Her jeans fit just right and, frankly, were  <em> not  </em> leaving enough to Harleen’s imagination. ‘ <em> Get it together, Harley. What  </em> <em> tha </em> <em>  fuck is wrong with  </em> <em> ya </em> <em> ? You just got here, focus on the bigger picture and stop  </em> <em> oglin </em> <em> ’ the first person  </em> <em> ya </em> <em>  lay eyes on. </em>’ </p><p>Harley was brought out of her thoughts as people started piling into the classroom, bringing with them chatter – enough to knock her out of her daydreams. She thought it best to focus on the mission ahead of her. ‘<em> Alright, classes first, playtime later, Harleen </em>’. Though she thought it, she found it hard to mean. It had been awhile since she felt the touch of another person. She was just the real affectionate type, ya know? Harley still felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach. She had barely even been done with Jay 4 months, and now she’s off in the city makin’ eyes at other people.  </p><p>As the chatter picked up, Harley sunk into herself and doubt set in. Maybe they were all right about her. About <em>this</em>. The room felt big again and Harley shrank into her seat. Harley pushed it down and attempted to perk up and listen to her new professor. First day was simple enough, a quick rundown of what they’d be doing with their semester. Harley sat forward in her seat, tongue sticking out as she doodled her “notes”. So focused, she didn’t seem to notice the redhead sneaking glances at her as class began and their syllabus made its way around the room. Harley also didn’t notice green eyes following the lines of her tattoos on her thighs. The ink peeked through the rips in her jeans. Diamonds, red lines and some...scribbles? Or at least that’s what it looked like from a few feet away. ‘<em>Who the hell would </em><em>scribble </em><em>permanently on their own body? Not to mention the total disregard for her safety? The risks alone of a home-brewed tattoo...</em>’, the redhead’s face scrunched up in thought. Blondie definitely had more than the few lines peeking through her jeans. Some looked more professional than others. Almost random in their placement. <br/>The red haired woman found it hard to concentrate on what their professor was saying as she mused on her own questions. The woman peeked at the blonde a few more times, in between taking meticulous notes. There was something magnetizing about the girl, small and timid in her new world. Red hair swept her notebook as she tried again to concentrate on what the professor was saying, as drab as it was. She found herself thinking back to that blonde girl. That there may have been something enigmatic hiding somewhere behind bright blue eyes and dip-dyed pigtails. </p><p>As quickly as it had started, class was over – the professor muttered something that went in one ear and out the other. As people started gathering their bags and books Harley shot straight up out of her seat; she gathered her things as quickly as she could. She threw her bag over her shoulder again and straightened out her shirt nervously. Harley quickly realized she had barely taken in any of the first lecture. She came here for a fresh start, a chance to hit reset. She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by all the new people and surroundings. She promised herself tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow she wouldn’t fuck it up. Tomorrow she would take notes and be an A+ example of a shinnin’ student! Tomorrow she’d hit reset...again. <br/> <br/> <br/>“<em>Fuckshitgoddammit</em><em>!</em>” <br/> </p><p>“Shit, shit, shit!”, Harley mumbled under her breath as she sprinted to class, dropping her textbook promptly before running three steps back to grab it. She glanced at her cracked phone screen before shoving it into the back pocket of her jeans. 10:17 AM. Seventeen minutes late already. Of course, it’d be on her second day. She had done so well yesterday! ‘<em> Ma was right. Maybe I wasn’t meant fer this college shit </em>.’, Harley half-thought to herself, half mumbled into the crisp September morning air. Day two and she wasn’t hitting ‘reset’ at all, she was just free-falling into a slight bit’a chaos. She might be able to pull it off if she just kept her feet moving. </p><p>Remembering herself, the blonde picked up the pace. She soon rounded the corner of the sidewalk, her eyes plastered shut and breathing heavily, she knew she was almost to her building, any second now she would be there and sneaking into the back of her class, any second now she’d be - “Urmf!” <br/>With a harsh ‘thud’, she had a new found home on the ground below.  <br/> <br/>Before Harley could even spare another thought to the “any seconds now” or her super-covert strategy of sneaking in the back door of the lecture hall and army-crawling her way to the nearest seat, she became acutely aware of something... No... Wait a second, that’d be ‘someone’, underneath her.  <br/> <br/>Beneath the blonde lay what Harley might have referred to as a “goddess”. ‘<em>Sure, all ladies are goddesses’</em>, Harley might have said to anyone who cared to ask in the moment. Too bad there was no one around to ask her why she wasn’t moving quicker or why she was starring too long. Harley didn’t have time for that though, there was, what appeared to be, an actual, legitimate goddess laying beneath her. The woman’s beautiful red hair, sprawled out across the sidewalk underneath her, was a stark contrast to her skin. Her skin was a perfect mixture of milky and flushed in all the right places. A few light freckles laid across her slightly reddened cheeks. Harley’s icy blue eyes jolted up to meet a pair of crystal greens. ‘<em>Aw shit, it's the woman from class – with the legs.</em>’  <br/>Quicker than she realized, her eyes scanned the woman’s face and noticed her lips, perfectly tinged with red, turning into a small smirk. ‘<em>Oh, wow, who the hell are </em><em>yo</em><em> -</em>’, Harley’s thoughts were interrupted - “Uh, hello?” </p><p>As the woman spoke Harley became exceedingly aware of her position over the redheaded woman, she was straddling her thighs, her hands on either side of her red head. “Excuse me, but what the fuck is happening right now?”, the “goddess” asked with a slight laugh dancing on her lips. Her voice was a pleasant mixture of slightly husky and playful, and yet somehow, she was stern enough to break Harley out of her trance. The blonde shot up, no longer holding her hands next to the woman’s head, but kept her eyes fixed on her. “Oh my god, <em> oh my god </em>  –,” Harley was finally broken out of her daze. “I am so, so, so <em> , so sorry </em> , I’m late an’ wasn’t  payin ’ attention to where I was  goin ’ and I just smacked  rightintaya . You - “, Harley rambled on, pulling down her cropped sweater as she climbed off of the woman she had just smacked to the ground, suddenly  <em> very aware  </em> of her tattoos and naked skin being visible to the woman in front of her. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of the woman noticing her tattoos, some of which she might have started regretting in this moment. Her papers, bag and textbooks were scattered across the sidewalk and grass. “You...  <em> You are </em>  – “, Harley stopped herself short and finished helping the redheaded woman to her feet. For the first time, she was seeing the stranger in all her - ‘ <em> Woah </em>’ - glory.  </p><p>For all the “goddess talk” that Harley was thinking while the woman was laid out under her, she couldn’t imagine a <em> moreperfectwoman </em> standin’ right in fronta her. The redhead dusted off the back of her thighs, clad in those damn jeans, and down to her calves. She then straightened out her dark green button down, adjusting her perfect French tuck and clearing her throat. She tucked a piece of her long red hair behind her ear. The woman watched the blonde as she started to grab at her books, her low-set pigtails moving in an almost comical manner as she dashed from pile to pile of her belongings. The redhead bent down and gathered some papers for the blonde, realizing it was obvious she had somewhere to be and needed to be there quickly. She glanced down at the papers in her hand and noticed the girl’s schedule in her hand.  </p><p>‘Gotham University Fall Schedule’, followed by ‘Harleen Quinzel’ a few lines below. Green eyes scanned the schedule for the source of the blonde’s rush. <em>‘Ah, I see</em>’, she thought to herself, blowing a strand of hair off of her face. Harley finished gathering her belongings, prancing up to the redhead, papers and notebooks practically springing from her bag.  <br/>“Harleen,” the woman spoke with authority, but there was a charming softness in it that Harley was not used to.  <br/>Harley was a little shocked that the woman spoke her name, she was positive this was the first time they’d met, well face-to-face, at least.  <br/> <br/>“What? How’d ya- “, Harley stammered over herself and touched at the faded blue tip of her pigtail. “Oh! Shitfuckdammit!”, she grabbed her phone out of her back pocket and checked the time - 10:21 AM. “I’m <em>so </em>late! I don’t know how I’m ever going to make this up, late already. Day two and I can’t even make it on ti-”, as Harley shoved her phone into her pocket, it immediately slipped through the tear in her jean pocket, smacking the ground and most definitely earning yet another crack. “Time”, she finished her sentence glaring down at her phone on the ground before bending down and snapping back up with her abused phone in her hand. She shot a nervous smile to the redhead.  <br/> <br/>“Harleen, you’re fine,” the woman spoke again. “You’re not late, the professor announced it at the end of class yesterday. He also sent an email. Didn't you get it last night?” <br/> <br/>“What email? Wha’?”, the frantic running finally seeming to catch up with the blonde. Her lightheadedness from running combined with images of her night made her head swirl. Crying and watching TV on her run-down sofa. A date with a pint of Ben &amp; Jerry’s and Bob’s Burgers for the 23rd time. <br/> <br/>“You’re on your way to Hart’s political science, right? 10:00 AM?”, she questioned as she passed Harley’s schedule and a few wayward papers back to her. “He sent out an email yesterday afternoon, the class was delayed. You’re not officially late until 10:30”, the redhead spoke very matter-of-factly. “I’m on my way there”, she finished, adjusting her crossbody bag and shifting her stance. For a moment the woman could swear she could see Harleen’s eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning. She couldn’t resist letting out a low, half-hearted chuckle at the sight.  <br/>“Oh my god, Red! You have no idea how happy you just made me!” <br/>“Red?” <br/>Harley pointed to the woman’s hair and gave her a genuine smile. “Red!” <br/>“Well, Harleen, I think if we get going, we can both make it to our class unscathed.”, she spoke bluntly again. Harley eyed the redheaded woman; her presence would have come off as intimidating if she hadn’t had just had her pinned to the ground. Her appearance was a mixture of “I am here to get shit done” and “I have people to do and things to see”. She was definitely the “makin’ her list and checkin’ it twice” type, she knew the type. <br/> <br/>Harley could tell there was something just under the woman’s surface. She seemed guarded behind all her unwavering confidence. Her arms where crossed across her abdomen, an indicator that ‘Red’ was protecting herself. ‘<em>People subconsciously protect their vital organs when they feel insecure, a form of self-defense'</em>, but maybe that was just Harley over-analyzing again. There was something fascinating about ol’ ‘Red’ here, that was for sure. The blonde twisted around, walking backwards towards the hall, picking up her petite hand and waving her slim fingers at the redhead. “Name’s Harley”, she grinned. “Pleased ta meetcha!”, her thick accent peeking through her sentence.  <br/> <br/>Harley was three steps ahead, full backwards sprinting towards the building, keeping an eye on the redheaded woman as she went.  <br/>‘Red’ seemed internally conflicted about something, scrunching up her face a little before giving a small sigh, followed by that outstandingly perfect smirk dancing across her lips, “It’s Pamela. Isley. Pamela Isley.”  <br/>If there was a hint of awkwardness in her statement, it went unnoticed by Harley. That didn’t stop Pamela’s stomach from doing a small flip when her green eyes met the intense blue ones looking back at her. There was something strangely intoxicating about Harley’s energy. <br/> <br/>Harley flushed and turned towards the building, making sure she didn’t trip again. “Pamela.”, she whispered to herself. Harley couldn’t contain her smile, beaming from ear to ear. ‘<em>Maybe this won’t be so bad </em><em>aft’a</em><em> all</em>’, she thought before full on running towards the building in front of her, still grinning wildly.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Muscle Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Heat rose up in her cheeks as she felt the cool gel of her pen writing on her wrist. Harley glanced down as Pamela finished writing. Was she so touch starved this was flustering her? A woman who she hardly even knew doodling on her skin? Pamela removed her hands from Harley’s wrist, popped the cap back on her pen and gestured for Harley to take it back. Finding herself, her eyes wandered down to her own arm and saw a phone number scrawled across her wrist in pink glitter.  </p><p>“We better start working on that presentation soon. I don’t fail classes.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few weeks passed without a hitch. There were no more late sprints to class and Harley had found herself replacing crying into her pint of ice cream with a subtle wave or smile towards Pamela as they entered class. Harley had made a few friends, sure, but she had yet to really form any sort friendship or even conversation with the woman she knocked over a few weeks ago. Harley had decided this just would not do. </p><p>See, Eddie was great, even if he was a lil’ oddball. Hell, Jon was pretty great, too. That boy shared her interest in the human mind and behavior but, of course, she met him her second week into Psych class when she took the seat furthest away from the front that she could find. Hiding amongst the outskirts of normalcy – that's where she found most kindred souls it would seem. Jon had tried to sell her a joint that day “fer way too much” (in Harley’s opinion, at least). What’d he take her for? A frat boy whose daddy had unknowingly been payin’ for Mary Jane on his stolen Visa?  Maybe she had the right idea when she sat in the front row of her political science class that day. Even if she just set there so she wouldn’t seem any less adult than the redhead she was <em> definitely not </em> tryna to impress. It seemed all Eddie cared to do was hit up local parties to treat himself to cheap booze and film cute lil’ TikkieTockers or whatever the fuck he called ‘em. Harley loved a good laugh, so of course, she watched whatever he showed her and held his phone for him while he mimed. Plus, he was proud of himself – he did work hard on ‘em, after all, and Harley was a bit of a sucker for a good joke.  </p><p>Jay was always cracking jokes. Not that they were particularly funny. Too bad she always had to laugh anyway. Jay always had a way of knocking Harley down a peg or two. At first, she figured she just wasn’t catching onto the jokes fast enough. After a while though, it seemed that, to him, she was the joke. He’d be so fast to twist those venomous teeth into a wicked grin before delivering his newest punchline. The memory made Harley’s ribs throb like a steel toe was fracturing her bones. As her tongue flicked out against her soft skin, she could have sworn she felt the warmth of blood, like her lip was splitting all over again. The wind chilled against the newfound dew on her lips, pulling her away from the echo of deranged laughter overtaking her thoughts. </p><p>Her newest fresh-faced friend, Jon, had proven to be less of a jokester and took his time in Gotham a little bit more seriously than Eddie, even if he showed up stoned half the time. He said it helped him sleep. Jon had suffered from sleep paralysis for most of life. Harley would sometimes shudder at the thought of what he described seeing while he laid there in his bed, unable to move. It was all she could do to keep from seein’ those things in her own nightmares if they talked too much about it over their weekly tacos and margaritas. Even with his hankerin’ for a good smoke, Harley could always count on Jon to help her with assignments and to bounce ideas off of. It seemed the three of them found a lot of comfort together. A little ragtag group of weirdos made for each other. </p><p>It was really refreshing, even if they weren’t picturesque like that hunky Wayne guy and his gang. ‘<em> How  </em> <em> tha </em> <em>  hell did he find that many attractive people, anyway? </em> ’, Harley huffed to herself as she hoisted her bag back further onto her shoulder. Her thoughts seemed to wander back to Jay, as they often did when she was alone. He never let her have many friends. ‘ <em> Who am I  </em> <em> kiddin </em> <em> ’? My only “friends” were his friends... If you could even call ‘ </em> <em> em </em> <em>  that’,  </em>Harley remembered Jay’s ‘boys’. Sometimes their eyes would meet hers and every now and again she would think that she could see sympathy welling up in them.  </p><p>Harley was no idiot; she knew somewhere deep down that he only let his lackies hang out with her as some sorta chaperone situation. She always played nice. She’d smile and kiss ass, they’d report back to Jay and he would treat her nice for a while. She knew the game and played it well. It took a lot of learnin’ but she stated to believe that a kiss with a fist was better than nothin’. She never planned it that way. She wanted a fairy tale as much as any lil’ girl. It wasn’t always like that Jay – not in the beginning, at least. Once upon a time, he spoke kind words to her, held her, made her feel safe and loved. Eventually her newness wore off, she laughed less with him, didn’t smile like she did when they met, his hands got rougher and his smile grew more distorted.   </p><p>‘<em> Tough shit, I guess – no prince in  </em> <em> shinin </em> <em> ’ armor here’,  </em>the blonde rounded the corner of her class and made her way to her regular seat. Five desks to the right of Pamela, the same seat she chose their first day. Harley wasn’t sure why she opted to keep her seat in the front row. Maybe because she didn’t want to bring attention to herself by trying to find a new spot, maybe it was because she couldn’t sneak glances at ‘Red’ from the back of the classroom. Really, who's to say? Harley had been having a hard time shaking their meeting for the first couple of weeks. It wasn’t every day that Harley got to be on top of a livin’, breathin’ goddess – that'll really affect a girl, y’know? </p><p>While she knew their run in was innocent enough, there was something intoxicating about Pamela’s presence. It felt like she was pulled to the woman like a dog chasin’ its tail or something. In that moment, Harley knew what she had to do. <br/>‘<em>We’re </em><em>gonna</em><em> be friends</em>’, Harley decided it almost immediately. ‘<em>Like, best friends... Paintin’ each other’s nails and shit, </em><em>watchin</em><em>’ movies</em>’, she snuck one desk over. ‘<em>I </em><em>betcha</em><em> she’s </em><em>inta</em><em> like, documentaries or </em><em>somethin</em><em>’</em>’, Harley quickly shifted again, one desk closer, with a loud “clynk”. Her keychains and enamel pins banged against the back of the seat. Harley shot her head up like an arrow and clacked her nails on the desktop innocently. Out of her peripheral she noticed a blur of red sitting up straighter than before. Harley shot a glance over to her left. Three desks down sat Pamela. ‘<em>Can’t make friends without </em><em>sayin</em><em>’ hi, Harleen</em>’, the blonde swallowed her nerves, turned and shot a large grin towards the woman. As her shoulders went up, she turtled into herself and gave a small wave to Pamela. The red-haired woman quirked an eyebrow and offered a gentle wave to Harley in return.  <br/>Harley turned to put her bag on the back of her chair, pulling out her textbook and highlighter, speaking to herself in a whisper of triumph, “Mission accomplished.” </p><p>She spun around and found Pamela still looking in her direction. Harley’s eyes worked their way down to the woman’s long, slender fingers as they wrapped around her pencil and flicked it rapidly. ‘<em> Nervous habits die hard, I guess’ </em> , she observed. Pamela cleared her throat quietly and Harley’s eyes shot up from Pamela’s fingers and pencil. ‘Red’ looked right at her. Her verdant eyes didn’t move from Harley’s when they finally made contact. The blonde flushed lightly and shifted her focus to her book. Her eyes wide again with embarrassment. She felt her stomach do a small jump, ‘ <em> Seriously, why does she have to look like that?’ </em> </p><p>The way Pamela looked at her felt different than that day a few weeks ago when Harley had her body pinned under her on the sidewalk. The memory made Harley’s stomach flip like it was doing Side Aerial right off a balance beam. She had never had gotten along well with other girls, not that she didn’t try. She did, really. Most the girls back home didn’t really want to mess with her cause of her Pa’s less than savory history with the locals and once the kids found out she played both sides of the field, most of her friendly female prospects were out the window, sans a few girls at work who would laugh at her puns. Most the guys in Bensonhurst were just tryin’ to get theirs, whether that was in the sack or on the streets. Too bad they thought Harley’s connections through her Pa could help ‘em and <em> very unlucky </em> for them, she wasn’t one to put out so easily. Harley let out a small snort of a laugh thinking about the guy she kicked right in the Johnson for getting' too handsy on a first date. That dude definitely got his comeuppance, that was for sure. </p><p>As other students filed into the lecture hall Harley snuck one last glance at Pamela, three seats down, looking straight forward. Harleen watched as Pamela lifted her lean arms and ran her fingers through her red locks, fluffing her hair out from behind her. <em> ‘Yup, best friends incoming’,  </em>Harley gave her bubblegum a tiny ‘pop’ and flipped open her textbook to the page marked on the board as Professor Hart finally waddled his way into the room.  </p><p>A few days later Harley practically skipped to her class. Approximately 8 minutes early, as per usual. She knew she’d round the corner of the hall and find Pamela sitting right there, always early. Right on que, she pranced into the class to find Pamela, now with only one desk between herself and Harley’s regular - “Seat?”, the blonde spoke to herself barely above a whisper. <br/>Harley quickly counted the seats in front of her, then again and...<em>one </em>more time. ‘<em>Wait a minute... one, two, three, four -</em>’, Harley lightly bounced her head as she counted. Pamela didn’t look up from her book as the blonde moved forward to the row of seats still mentally counting desks. Harley couldn’t tell what it was Pamela was reading, but this one seemed for fun, something floral whirling across the front and back covers under her lithe fingers.  </p><p>Pamela had moved to sit to the right. Where there should have been empty desks between her and Harley, there was none. Harley checked and rechecked the number of desks and there was no doubt in her mind – ‘Red’ had moved over to the seat closest to her. ‘<em> Best friends! </em>’, Harley squealed internally as she nibbled on her bottom lip and sat down gently at the desk next to Pamela, trying her best to hide her smile.  </p><p>It didn’t go unnoticed by Pamela who glanced up to see Harley’s perfectly plump bottom lip in-between her front teeth and her set of crystal eyes lighting up with excitement. She tried to focus on her book and not the girl who was practically vibrating in the seat next to her. Pamela found it harder to read as thoughts of the blonde’s cute smile and perfect lips swirled around in her head. She didn’t regret her decision to move closer to Harley, it was worth it to see her reaction alone. Pamela had never been a “people person”, in fact, she found, more often than not, that people were more destructive than benevolent. ‘<em> There’s something about this one though, isn’t there? </em>’, she flipped to the next page of her book, reading and rereading the first few sentences, but not taking in anything of substance. As engaging as “Practical Botany for Gardeners” was to Pam, she was finding it hard to focus on the section about soil pH and fertility. She huffed to herself and blew a rogue strand of red hair out of her face. She ran her fingers across her book, feeling the cover with her fingertips before clamping it shut. “Such a shame... I was looking forward to that section”, the redhead mumbled to herself.   </p><p>Harley took notice to the woman’s mumbling and now closed book and saw her opportunity to pounce. If she had been a cat, her tail would have been up in the air wiggling while she moved close to the ground. The girl leaned far over, practically sliding into Pamela’s personal space.  <br/>“Whatcha readin’?”, Harley spoke softly. This didn’t stop Pamela from being taken aback by the sudden break in their silence.  <br/>Pam gathered herself and ran a hand across the middle of her cotton shirt, trying her hardest to cover up her bewilderment. She turned towards Harley and answered her plainly, “It’s a book about Botany, specifically aimed towards gardening.” Harley would have sworn Pamela’s voice flowed out of her throat and past her lips like smoke or poison. Sweet but commanding, like it could lure her in with warmth and promises of certainty only to deliver something she was unsure of. Unsure if it would kiss her or kill her, but either way it felt like it could be a dream come true. Harley was like a fish moving towards a lure, subconsciously leaning in towards Pamela. If it was noticeable at all, the redhead paid it no mind. <br/>“<em>Soooo</em>, like, plants an’ such?” <br/>“Yes, like, plants...and such”, Pamela raised one of her eyebrows and couldn’t stop herself from giving the blonde a small smile. “I like plants.” If Pam could have, she probably would have covered her face in embarrassment. <em>‘Pamela ‘I Like Plants’ Isley at your service. Seriously?’, </em>Pamela opted to run her hand through her hair nervously instead of smacking her forehead off of the desk. Not that Harley noticed any awkwardness at all when it came to Pamela. All she saw was a drop-dead gorgeous knockout who exuded so much confidence it must be contagious.  <br/>Harley seemed to have caught some of that confidence as she leaned a little closer to the woman next to her, “I love flowers”. Pamela kept her eyes on Harleen as she spoke, “my gran’ma had a real nice garden when I was a lil’ kid.” Harley smiled after she finished her sentence.  <br/>“What kind of plants did she grow?”, Pamela’s expression softened when her eyes met Harley’s.  <br/>“Tonsastuff! My favorites were her daffodils. Oh! And the buttacups!”, Harley beamed.  <br/>Pamela straightened up a little bit in her seat, talking about plants was definitely making her less nervous at the thought of human interaction. <br/>“Ah, the Ranunculaceae family. Did you know that buttercups are actually poisono -”, her sentence was cut short by a door shutting and the gruff sound of a man clearing his throat.  <br/>“Settle down, <em>settle down</em>”, Hart spoke loudly over the chatter of the people in the room.  <br/>Harley quickly sat back up into her seat and gave Pamela a slight smile. Pamela looked forward as Professor Hart continued on with the mornings lesson. She twirled her pencil between her fingers when she wasn’t scratching in her notebook.  </p><p>Their routine of sitting side by side in their shared class continued on for the next two weeks, twice a week, for an hour and fifteen minutes each time. The pair had quick conversations in the few minutes before class began, but once or twice, a shared glance sent Harley into a silent giggle fit after Hart had already started on his dull monologue about “politics and strategy”. Harley couldn’t help but notice that the first time she saw Pamela again after their conversation about daffodils and buttercups, she was wearing a muted yellow button-down under her leather jacket instead of a signature green shirt. Coincidentally, the exact colors of the very flowers she had described with so much adoration. It was a small notion that Pamela had not only listened to what she was saying but that she cared enough to show it outwardly even if it was a minuscule detail that the redhead probably didn’t even think Harleen would notice. Too bad for Pamela, Harley noticed everything.  </p><p>Harley noticed Pamela’s laugh, how she tried to suppress it as to not bring unwanted attention to herself when Harley would make a particularly bad pun. How her arms looked under the rolled sleeves of her t-shirts, how her subtle muscles probably went unnoticed to most people who offered innocent looks at her. Harley noticed how her hair glowed under the droplets of sun peeking through the window closest to them. She noticed how Pamela would wear her large rimmed glasses into class somedays, only to push them onto the top of her head and pinch her softly freckled nose between her captivating fingertips. Most of all, Harley noticed how surrounding herself with her new friends, Eddie, Jon and even Pam, had meant her thoughts lingered less on Jay, less on her time alone and less on the nightmares of a memory she hadn’t quite learned to let go of. </p><p>A week into October the tides shifted, as did Harley’s routine with Pamela. Maybe her classes were goin’ too well, maybe she was feelin’ too confident in her college experience, maybe that day Hart’s tone of voice was too monotone for her liking. That day, a week into October, Harley scribbled a message on a scrape piece of paper -  <br/> <br/><b><em>“What’d the fish say when it hit the wall -”</em></b> </p><p>Harley snickered at the incoming masterpiece, tongue half sticking out of her grinning mouth. She tucked the paper in on itself and slyly slipped it onto Pamela’s desk, under her notebook where she wrote her lecture notes. Pamela blinked down at the folded-up piece of paper. She looked over to the girl to her right who was offering Pam an innocent smile. Pamela found Harley’s playfulness hard to resist. She picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it quietly and gave a quick glance at Hart who’s back was still facing the room, talking lowly about the press’s influence over local government. Pamela stared blankly at the small piece of paper between her fingers, reading the set up to a horrible joke. The redhead looked back over to Harley, much more confused than she was before. Harley almost let out an ugly cackle at the disgust on Pamela’s face.  </p><p><em>‘She loves it’,</em> Harley found herself thinking optimistically.  <br/> <br/>Pamela’s expression didn’t shift as she did a double take at the paper and then back to excited blonde.  <br/>‘<em>I hate it’</em>, she thought. Unfortunately for her, knew she didn’t mean it. </p><p>Harley offered a silent ‘go on’ motion with her hand, encouraging her friend to write a response.  </p><p>Pamela took a look at Harley, her eyes sparkling with the joy of sharing something she found amusing. ‘<em> I can’t believe I’m doing this </em> ’ - with a small sigh, Pamela turned the slip of paper over and jotted down a little  <b> <em> “What?” </em> </b> before gently sliding it back over to Harley. If anyone had told Pamela she’d be passing notes in her college classes at the age of 23, she would have scoffed at them. Before she met Harleen, anyway.  </p><p>Full of herself as ever, Harley ripped off another piece of her notebook sheet. She grabbed her pen and wrote her response as quickly as she could. She folded this note into a little football and tossed it onto Pamela’s desk. The note landed on her textbook with a small “plop”. The action knocked Pam out of the daze she was in, the crimped-up note sliding right across her newly written notations. Harley brought her legs up to her seat, pulling them into a little “criss-cross applesauce” action. She rested her left hand on one of her beat-up checkered sneakers, tracing the outline of the rubber at the sole. She used her right to bring her pink glitter pen up to her lips, chewing gently on the cap. Harley set, waiting anxiously for Pamela to open up her paper. Her eyes stayed glued to Pamela’s gentle fingers as they expertly slid their way across the smooth paper and opening her simple one liner.  </p><p>Pamela sighed as she read the swirling pink scratches.  <br/><b><em>“Dam!!”</em></b>, followed by a crudely drawn smiley face. Through Pamela’s sigh she knew she was smiling. That same intoxicating presence Harleen had proven to have previously was still seeping through. Pamela looked at Harley, who was stifling her own laughter. She saw her pink lips turned into a silent laugh, pen still between her teeth. Her sloppy bun holding her hair up proved to be doing a horrible job as she swayed in her seat. She seemed rather proud of herself, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. Pamela’s smile grew a tiny bit wider looking at her, even though she knew she wasn’t smiling at the horrible joke, but for Harley, who seemed to be glowing with pride. She looked at the young woman to her right, looked at her roused platinum hair pinned to her head, her two-toned ends sticking out sporadically and falling across the smooth skin of her neck. Her emerald eyes made their way down to apple cheeks, a compact heart-shaped tattoo on porcelain skin under bright blue eyes, so full of life and so full of love to give to the world around her.  </p><p>Pamela only realized she was staring at Harley when she heard the distant voice of Professor Hart bringing her back to reality.  <br/>“ - Isley. Miss Isley. Excuse me.” </p><p>Pamela’s eyes grew wide as she squished the piece of paper in her palm and looked away from Harley and up to Hart. “Sorry?” <br/><br/>“Is there something you’d like to share?” <br/>“No, sir.” <br/>“Perfect, then you won’t mind telling me what you and Miss Quinzel are planning for your paper?” <br/>Harley perked up and gulped, “Paper?” <br/>“Yes, Miss Quinzel. Or were you two passing notes about something that wasn’t related to our class?” <br/>Pamela interjected, “No, professor.” She feigned confidence, pushing her own hair out of her face and giving Hart a steely look. Her eyes seemed to glisten with a hint of persistence and Harley looked at her with adoration – Pamela was a badass.  </p><p>“We will be presenting on the distribution of authority as seen in federalism, sir”, she crossed her legs and pushed her back against the chair attached to her desk. Her aura became a commanding force – she didn’t break her eye contact with their professor. Harley offered a small, “Yup! What she said!” in agreeance.  <br/>Hart had obviously been trying to embarrass Pamela, humiliate her into paying attention to his incredibly boring voice. Pamela didn’t take well to men trying to demand her attention, she made that very clear. She clicked her tongue, lifted an eyebrow and continued, “May we proceed then, Professor?” </p><p>Hart’s tongue appeared to no longer be in fully functioning order. He huffed and pushed up the sleeve of his coat, fiddling with his cheap gold watch. “That’s it for today. Dismissed.” <br/>He turned and straightened his desk, “I encourage you all to pair up and start your research as soon as you can. I’ll be emailing you an outline of what I expect for this project.” <br/>Half the class had already began walking out the door. Harley turned to give Pamela a genuine “thank you” for sticking up for her. It was her fault they were called out in the middle of class, after all. When Harley turned on her heels, she was face to face with Pamela. Harley let out a subconscious whimper of surprise. This was the closest she had ever been to her new friend, if she could even call Pam that. The blonde sucked in a deep breath, trying to present herself as reserved, but was overtaken by the sweet smell of lavender and mint. <br/>‘<em>Aw shit, I fucked up. She hates me, she hates me’</em>, Harley nibbled her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully before she spoke them. She put her pen between her teeth and gnawed the cap as she spoke, “Listen, Pamela, I’m so sorry about all tha -”, she had almost finished her apologetic word vomit when a smooth hand reached out, grabbed her right arm and tamely pulled her closer. Her lips clamped shut around her pen again as she staggered closer to Pamela. Harley closed her eyes tightly from muscle memory, or instinct, preparing for something that did not come. Instead she felt the sleeve of her shirt being pushed up. She opened her eyes so she could peek at Pamela. There was no harm in her touch, it allowed Harley to relax. Pamela had worked her sleeve up to expose her forearm and her alternating diamond shaped tattoos. She held Harley’s hand, palm side up, her thumb traced the edge of a black line on her skin and down to the bone in her wrist. Harley’s mouth went dry, she couldn’t have spoken even if she knew what to say. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth at the feeling of Pam’s skin against hers.  </p><p>Harley looked up at the woman in front of her and saw the corner of her mouth turn up. Pamela leaned in and brought her other hand up to the pen in Harley’s mouth. Harley’s eyes crossed slightly looking down as Pamela pulled the pen from between her lips. ‘Red’ pulled the cap off with her own set of pearly whites and Harley’s throat closed shut. She was dying, she was certain and Pamela was the cause. There was no way Pam didn’t know just how incredibly attractive she was, but surely, she didn’t realize how insanely irresistible she was doing such uneventful things.  </p><p>Heat rose up in her cheeks as she felt the cool gel of her pen writing on her wrist. Harley glanced down as Pamela finished writing. Was she so touch starved this was flustering her? A woman who she hardly even knew doodling on her skin? Pamela removed her hands from Harley’s wrist, popped the cap back on her pen and gestured for Harley to take it back. Finding herself, her eyes wandered down to her own arm and saw a phone number scrawled across her wrist in pink glitter.  </p><p>“We better start working on that presentation soon. I don’t fail classes.”, Pamela said before pushing her hair back. She threw her bag across her body and grabbed her books. “Text me when you’re free to talk shop."  <br/><br/>As fast as Pamela was in front of Harley, she was gone. Out the door of the classroom, leaving Harley in the wake of her destruction.  <br/> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>our girls are in for it now~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. It's a Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Toxicodendron radicans.”, Pamela spoke with a drip of pride.  <br/>“Wha-?” <br/>Her tongue failed her again. Harley wanted to flip off the banister, into the greenery below her and hide under a rock.  <br/>Pamela nodded towards the plant still lingering in Harley’s fingers, “Poison ivy.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>study dates mean being quiet together~</p><p>minor marijuana usage this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Riddle me this</span>
  </em>
  <span> – what’s pink, blue and</span>
  <em>
    <span> red</span>
  </em>
  <span> all over?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, Eddie”, Harley sloppily plopped down on the couch next to her giggling friend, phone in her left hand, beer in the other. “And I’m not red, either!”, she took a swig of her brown glass bottle and glanced down at her cell phone again. The phone unlocked as soon as she faced it, showing a contact page that was already open. </span>
  
</p><p><span>An empty circle with a grayed out “R” instead of a photo. Above it typed simply, “Red”, followed by a string of plant based emojis. Ten digits laid out on the screen next to two bubbles indicating “text” and “call”. </span> <br/>
<span>Harley swallowed down another drink of her now lukewarm beer. The heat radiating from her nervous hands had raised the temperature of her beverage to a rather unenjoyable degree.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Really? Could have fooled me by that blush that won’t stop creeping all over your face”, Eddie leaned in and offered a gentle poke to Harley’s cheek. She playfully swatted his hand away. He wormed his way down the couch and laid his head in Harley’s lap, she ruffled his umber hair like a dad would do to his son after winning the big game. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie placed a hand on his chest like he was acting in a Shakespearean play and stretched his other arm across his forehead in mock suffering. His playacting was contradictory to his jovial speech, “What is mine, but only </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>can have?”</span>
  
</p><p><span>Eddie pried one eye open to see the reaction to his handywork. Harley was looking down at the man in her lap with revulsion. Surely this was the same, exact face Pamela had made at her when she had passed her little note to her in class two days prior. Harley stood up, rolling Eddie out of her lap and into the floor of her apartment. He groaned as he lay flat against the hardwood, “My heart”, he offered a light-hearted giggle, finishing his own riddle. </span> <br/>
<span>“Get out of my apartment”, Harley half-laughed, helping the man off the floor. Eddie pushed up from the floor with his spindly legs and brushed off his hind end with his hand. Harley let out a deep sigh. She was definitely frustrated with herself and it was showing. Why would she be this nervous about making a new friend? Was it due to her lack of female friendships growing up? Did she even know how to talk to other ladies? She knew it wasn’t healthy to overthink but she was digging her into a mental hole. Harley swallowed; her mouth was dry again thinking about her last interaction with Pamela. Maybe she felt that deep-down there was something more than friendly going on in the pit of her stomach as it flipped thinking about long fingers pulling her pink pen from lips that she held slightly agape. Thinking of Pamela’s mouth on barely visible teeth indentions left on the cap where Harley’s own lips had laid just seconds before. A soft touch that left her speechless. </span></p><p>
  <span>Eddie smiled to himself and pulled Harley into a slack hug, whether due to her obvious need for one or the fact that he always got </span>
  <span>huggy</span>
  <span> a few wine coolers into their nights. Harley held her half empty beer loosely in her fingers, her other hand holding onto the back of his sweater. She flattened her face into his chest and huffed. Through the fabric of Eddie’s top, he could hear her muffled voice complain, “</span>
  <span>Urmf</span>
  <span>, this ‘un is a big </span>
  <span>chunka</span>
  <span> our grade an’ I can’t even figure out howta ask her to meet up”.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Stop that”, a voice came from the doorway of Harley’s small kitchen. Jon’s socked feet shuffled into her cozy living room. Harley shifted her head from Eddie’s chest and noticed Jon had a blanket draped across his dark hair like a hood, a small, hand-rolled joint between his teeth and two bottles between his fingers, both opened. Harley slipped out of Eddie’s unconstrained hug. Jon handed the fruity labeled bottle to Eddie and took his seat in his regular spot in the hand-me-down recliner to the left of the couch. </span> <br/>
<span>Ed made his way to the arm of Jon’s chair, handing him the ashtray from the coffee table. </span> <br/>
<span>“And for fuck’s sake, </span><span>Harls</span><span> – get some heat in here”, Jon bundled up further under his fleece blanket. </span> <br/>
<span>“It </span><span>ain’t</span><span> even cold, Jon”, Harley mumbled, her lips on the rim of her bottle. </span> <br/>
<span>“Of course, you think that, probably due to your increased heart rate”, Jon spoke with a smirk on his lips. Eddie gave a loud snort before looking at Harley’s annoyed face, he sucked in his lip and leaned back against the chair next to Jon. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Listen, </span>
  <span>Harls</span>
  <span>, it feels pretty obvious that you are suppressing any potential romantic feelings you have for </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>due to previous negative relationships. You have probably internalized unhealed wounds of your past relationship, which is </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely </span>
  </em>
  <span>understandable considering what you’ve told us”, Jon lit his joint and leaned back into the recliner, bumping his shoulder into Eddie’s side. Eddie leaned into the small touch and nursed his strawberry drink. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Unfortunately</span>
  </em>
  <span>, denying feelings can, and often will, turn into limiting what you believe you’re capable or deserving of. It’s no wonder you’re feeling nervous.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Okay, okay, Jonny, we take </span><span>tha</span><span> exact same classes, </span><span>ya</span><span> don’t </span><span>gotta</span><span> preach at me”, Harley crossed her legs on the couch and looked down the head of her beer into the liquid that reflected one of her blue eyes back to her. “An’ I don’t have no “</span><em><span>potential romantic </span></em><em><span>feelin’s</span></em><em><span>” </span></em><span>for nobody, thank </span><span>ya</span><span> very much. An’ I’m definitely </span><em><span>not </span></em><span>nervous!”</span> <br/>
<span>“Okay”, Jon said it, but it was obvious he didn’t mean it.</span> <br/>
<span>Harley sat her beer down on her table and flopped over onto her back, lying flat on the couch. She picked her phone up and through the cracks on the screen, she clicked the “message” bubble next to Pamela’s number. Her fingers tacked across the glass, careful to not stick herself with any splinters. She typed, erased and typed again, before deciding on a simple -</span></p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>hey it’s </span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>harley</span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>. </span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>wanna</span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span> meet up and talk federalism this weekend?</span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <span>”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With a quick “woosh” sound, her text was sent. Harley placed her phone on her forehead and blew air into her checks making a raspberry sound. As if on cue, Jon and Eddie clapped and gave enthusiastic “woops” and Jon offered a whispered “finally” as he blew smoke from his lips. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>,</span>
  <span>’, Harley huffed to herself, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s only been two days!’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Their chatter picked up again in the room, talking about their latest movie viewings and classes. When Harley wasn’t speaking, it felt like she was underwater, their voices distant and echoing. A loud, piercing whistle broke her out of her stupor and her phone vibrated on her skull where she had left it. Harley shot up, her phone falling into her lap. She hastily scrambled to sit up straight and unlock her phone. Luckily for her, Eddie and Jon were now both just tipsy enough to be lost in their own conversation and not paying attention to her lack of composure. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s phone screen finally opened to her homepage. She tapped the speech bubble icon at the bottom left of her screen, then the new message at the top of the page. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>“Saturday, 11AM?”</span>
    </em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s heart sped up but she didn’t pay attention to it, she noticed her fingers shook slightly as she typed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>“it’s a date. library?” </span>
    </em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie laughed loudly and she looked up, the pair weren’t paying attention to her. Jon looked up when he felt her eyes on them. He gestured the joint between his fingers towards Harley. She normally wouldn’t partake, but it felt like the right call for tonight. She hopped over to the recliner and took the hand rolled cigarette. She jumped back down on the couch tossing her phone to the wayside. Harley held the paper between her fingers and inhaled. As she exhaled, she laid back down on the sofa again, propping her blonde head onto the several couch pillows behind her. She played with the edge of her shorts on her thighs, rubbing the seam between her thumb and forefinger. She inhaled smoke again, and stretched her body across the couch waiting on her phone to ring out again. As she breathed out, she ran her fingers across her exposed abdomen, she mentally noted that she needed to work more on her crunches – she was definitely feeling a little buzzed now. She reached up and across to Jon and passed the joint back to him. She didn’t smoke often and knew her limits. Eddie stood up and stretched his arms above his head. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Well, I think I better get going. I have to work tomorrow afternoon. Coffee won’t make itself, </span><span>ya</span><span> know”, he reached down and offered Jon a hand to help him off the recliner. Jon stood up and dropped his fleece shield from his body and onto the recliner. “Yeah, he’s right. I better get </span><span>goin</span><span>’, too. I </span><span>gotta</span><span> start on that essay for Dr. Meridian’s.”</span> <br/>
<span>“</span><span>Ya</span><span> haven’t started that yet?”, Harley questioned innocently – she had finished her essay early and already had it submitted. She spent two weeks researching compassion fatigue and even interviewed two nonprofits in the area.</span> <br/>
<span>“You have?”</span> <br/>
<span>“Yeah, last week, babe”, the blonde chuckled a little at Jon’s shocked face. He crinkled up his straight-edged nose and furrowed his brow.</span> <br/>
<span>“Well, fuck, now I really </span><span>gotta</span><span> get to work or you’re going to make me look bad in front of the good Doctor”, Jon was slipping his boots on while Eddie held the door open for him. </span> <br/>
<span>“I’ll see </span><span>y’all</span><span> tomorrow! Text me or else,” Harley stuck her tongue out at the boys as they shut the door behind them, waving. </span></p><p>
  <span>Harley locked her two deadbolts at the top of her door as she shut it. She slid the tarnished gold chain across the door and then double checked the doorknob was twisted into its latched position. She leaned against her freshly locked door and closed her eyes, she was getting sleepy, maybe a side effect of the smoking and the alcohol settling in her stomach. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>diingggg</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>~</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bright blue eyes shot open and she was suddenly very awake. She padded over to the sofa where she had set her phone and picked it up. Pamela had finally responded. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>“Sorry for the delayed response, I was in the shower. The library is perfect. I’ll see you then.”</span>
    </em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s hazy mind was suddenly swimming with thoughts of Pam’s perfect hair drenched with steam and her freckled skin warm under a gentle stream of water.</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘Bad, bad, bad, Harleen’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she scolded herself as she typed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’d have to be blind to not notice how attractive Pamela is, doesn’t mean a thing’.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>“i’m </span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>lookin</span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span> forward to it”</span>
    </em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She sent the message and decided a shower sounded nice. Better to get her mind off of things, anyway. She was fairly confident she wasn’t “crushing” on Pamela, as much as the boys </span>
  <span>insisted</span>
  <span> she was. She was just lonely and she knew she had been suppressing her attraction to women while she was living with Jay. See, Jon wasn’t the only one who could analyze her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her sexuality made Jay uncomfortable and she knew better than to ever make him uncomfortable or embarrassed, if she knew what was good for her anyway. Her feet made their way to the bathroom. She started the shower and noticed how cold the stainless-steel knobs were in her palms and it made her skin sprout goosebumps. Jon wasn’t wrong, her apartment was cold. She liked it that way, though. She could curl up with her comfortable blanket and her favorite spooky movie. Hell, if she was </span>
  <span>feelin</span>
  <span>’ up for it, she might even light some candles to really make the mood. She loved the fall. </span>
  
</p><p><span>She grabbed the edges of her baggy cropped t-shirt and pulled it over her head, her skin reacted immediately to the chill of the air despite the room filling up with steam. Harley reached behind her back and undid the clasps of her bra. </span> <br/>
<span>“Thank god”, she uttered to herself as it fell to the floor. There was nothing quite as good as taking off your bra at the end of the day. She stuck her pale hand into the water. The perfect temperature for a long shower. Perfect for relaxing her muscles and the tension from her neck and shoulders. Perfect for washing away loneliness and regrets of the past. </span></p><p>
  <span>Harley latched her thumbs into her shorts and pulled them down past her thighs, allowing them to fall to her ankles. She kicked them away to lay with her shirt. She ran her nails up her smooth legs as she stretched slowly. Her tattoos had faded over the past few years, some newer than others, some better than others. She ran her fingers across a scrawled “</span>
  <span>puddin</span>
  <span>”. The pain she felt scratching that tattoo onto her own thigh was nothing compared to the pain that the man who inspired it brought to her. She glanced up to herself in the mirror as it fogged over. Her body covered in small scars, different shapes and sizes. Tattoos placed next to them, on top of them. Harley was proud of herself, despite what had happened to her and what she had covered up. Her well-trained body held tight muscles from her years of gymnastics training. She used to think she’d be wearing medals instead of scars, but that was before Jay... before a lot of things.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The chill on her skin faded away as she slid her underwear down past her lower pelvis and across the intricate lettering spelling out “lucky you” and stepped into the shower. She drew the curtain closed and shut her eyes against the water. She ran her fingers through her hair and turned her back to the sheet of scalding water. She let the liquid roll down her shoulders and to the back of her thighs and calves. The water pooled at her feet and she gave a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>splash </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the water. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After reinvigorating herself with a warm shower and scrubbing away thoughts of beer, blurs of red hair and how good she’d be sleeping after those few draws from Jon’s plant friendly smoke, Harley wrapped herself in her favorite warm, fluffy towel. Eventually she found the motivation to put on her clean shorts and shirt and crawled into her modest bed. Harley fell into slumber easily that night and for the first time in a long time, nightmares didn’t come to her.</span>
  
</p><p><span>Harley had T-minus 27 hours before her meeting with Pamela. It was what she thought about as soon as she had woken up and as she got dressed. Even as she made her way to her one Friday class (how she managed that, she’d never know) and then as she headed down to The Daily Grind.</span> <br/>
<span>Not only was The Daily Grind her favorite spot to grab a sugary coffee but it also housed one of her best friends four days out of the week and would definitely help get her mind off of her study date. Harley closed up her second-hand denim jacket, adjusted her signature pigtails and sprinted down the sidewalk to annoy Eddie on the job. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, dear, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>homeeee</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, the blonde giggled as she bounced up to the front counter, her bag lightly patting her back, worn sneakers squeaking on the floor with each small </span>
  <em>
    <span>hop</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie leaned over the counter, his red apron perfectly contradicting his bright green t-shirt. He rested his chin on his palms and smiled up at Harley’s flushed face. “In the mood for something warm or cold today?”, Eddie asked without greeting her. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“</span><em><span>Oooooo</span></em><span>, surprise me, Eddie! Just make sure it -”</span> <br/>
<span>“- It’s sweet. Yes, ma’am!”, Eddie gave a mock salute towards Harley and spun on his heel, walking towards the coffee press. </span></p><p>
  <span>Harley grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter and took a laughably large bite before speaking. "</span>
  <span>I’mma</span>
  <span> b’ at </span>
  <span>th</span>
  <span>’ ‘</span>
  <span>egula</span>
  <span>’ </span>
  <span>sp’t</span>
  <span>!”, she spoke with her mouth full, pointing towards the back of the shop with the hand holding the bright red apple. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She found her spot and decided it was time to curl up on the sofa. Harley held the apple in her white teeth and slid off her jacket and threw it on the back of the velvety blue couch. Harley kicked her sneakers off to expose her no-show socks and sat cross-legged. Taking another bite of her apple, Harley pulled her laptop out of her bag at the bottom of the sofa. She flipped up the screen and the processor </span>
  <em>
    <span>whrrr’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> to life just in time for Eddie to turn the corner with a large cup of something that smelled </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious </span>
  </em>
  <span>on a saucer. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, </span>
  <span>what’dya</span>
  <span> bring me, baby?!”, Harley sat up in her seat and leaned in towards the sweet smell. The giant cup was swirling with steam and plump with too much whipped topping. A drizzle of hot fudge delicately laid on the soft cloud of cream, cinnamon dancing lightly on top. Half a chocolate bar stuck out of the cup; the other half sat on the saucer next to the warm drink. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“What do you call stolen candy?”, Eddie quirked an eyebrow and flashed Harley a shit-eating grin. Harley started making </span><em><span>gimme</span></em><em><span> hands</span></em><span> at the cup, her eyes giant with invisible heart eyes. </span> <br/>
<span>“</span><em><span>Well?</span></em><span>”, Eddie poked, pulling the cup back a little out of Harley’s reach. </span> <br/>
<span>Harley whimpered and pouted out her bottom lip, “I don’t know, what, Ed baby?”</span> <br/>
<span>“</span><em><span>Hot </span></em><span>chocolate”, he quipped, sitting the saucer down on the table in front of Harley’s laptop. </span> <br/>
<span>Harley’s pale fingers grasped the large cup. The sensation of hot porcelain left her fingers tingling as she brought the cup to her face, taking in the delightful smell. </span> <br/>
<span>“Oh, come on, you didn’t even try for that one”, the girl smiled against the cup as she took the first sip of heaven. She sighed in bliss and gave Eddie a smile so big it could have stopped traffic in its tracks. </span> <br/>
<span>“</span><span>But </span><em><span>this! This </span></em><span>i</span><span>s </span><span>amazin</span><span>’!</span><em><span>”</span></em></p><p>
  <span>Eddie bowed to Harley as if he had just given a show stopping performance on Broadway and walked back to the counter to help incoming customers. Harley tended to her elegant hot chocolate. The coffee shop smelled like freshly ground beans and a comforting wood burning stove. The Daily Grind was one of Harley’s hiding spots. When she didn’t want to be so lonely, she’d come down and sip sugary caffeinated drinks and research for her final psychology paper for the term. Yeah, she knew it was a </span>
  <span>ways</span>
  <span> away, but she was having trouble picking a subject. She had mowed through many topics at this point. Hell, she wasn’t even sure what she wanted to specialize in or what she was particularly interested in – she just knew she wanted to help. People who were lost or needed a warm hand to lead them to something lighter. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As the sun came to rest behind the tall buildings of Gotham, Harley packed up her stickered laptop and slipped her sneakers back on. She threw her bag over her shoulder and snapped another piece of chocolate from what was left of the bar resting on the saucer. After taking her cup and trash to the counter and paying her bill, she found her way to her apartment. Harley unlocked each of her locks meticulously and quietly stepped inside. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That night Harley crawled into bed, getting comfortable under her sheets. T-minus 18 hours. Harley opted to close her eyes and try to force herself to sleep instead of her nightly ritual of flipping through videos until her eyes drifted closed.</span>
  
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><span>The wind made the trees shudder as it whipped through rustling leaves as they were turning golden. Harley got to the library on campus early Saturday morning. She pulled herself onto the ledge of the railing in front of the building and fidgeted with the torn fabric around the hole in her jeans on her thigh. She traced the line of a black ink mark, as she often did when letting her mind wander. Did she pick an appropriate outfit for the day? What if Pamela thought she was a floozy or </span><span>somethin</span><span>’? What if she didn’t come off as strait laced as Pam? ‘</span><em><span>I mean, it’s a </span></em><em><span>lil</span></em><em><span>’ chilly, am I </span></em><em><span>showin</span></em><em><span>’ too much skin?</span></em><span>’</span> <br/>
<span>Harley felt doubt bubble up underneath the surface of her reddening face, conscious of the skin peeking through her jeans. The wind blew again and a chill was sent down Harley’s exposed neck as the trees swayed around her. Harley grabbed her phone from her back pocket, half hanging out and too close to another busted screen for her comfort. </span><em><span>10:46 AM. </span></em></p><p>
  <span>Harley shoved her phone back into her pocket, this time deeper so it wouldn’t slip out and come crashing down into the foliage below. Blonde hair blew into Harley’s face as she looked closer at the plant life below her, next to the stoop of the library building. Green leaves sprouted from the ground in large groups. Several vines had started growing onto the stoop and up the railing. It grew up the bricks of the buildings, intertwining into the cracks. Harley looked up at the large construction in front of her. Only then did she notice that the plant was growing over most of the building and the railing under her feet. She reached out and felt waxy leaves with her soft fingertips. The veins of the leaves stretched out under glossy green textures. She held the beauty of the ever-pleasant viridescent leaves in her fingers. Her thoughts ran circles behind her wide ocean eyes, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wonder how long it takes fer a plant to grow that big.’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it takes approximately three months for the growth to become established. Within in a year it can overtake the surface of a wall. After that, it risks destroying foundation. Everything past that is just for fun.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The voice ran across Harley’s ear and urged her towards it. Apparently, Harley made a habit of thinking out loud. She twisted her body around, fingers still on a large green leaf, absentmindedly running her fingers over its flat surface. As she turned around on the banister, she was greeted by Pamela, hair long and perfect in the slight breeze, her worn leather jacket was unzipped just under the cut of her V-neck shirt. Exposing enough skin to leave any eyes wondering just how flawless her skin was under that jacket. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“</span><span>Toxicodendron radicans.”, Pamela spoke with a drip of pride. </span> <br/>
<span>“Wha-?”</span> <br/>
<span>Her tongue failed her again. Harley wanted to flip off the banister, into the greenery below her and hide under a rock. </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela nodded towards the plant still lingering in Harley’s fingers, “Poison ivy.” Pamela tried to hide her smirk as Harley loosely let go of the leaf in her hand. “It’s toxic, you know. It leaves a nasty little rash.”</span> <br/>
<span>Harley found her voice, tucking a wayward piece of hair behind her ear before hopping off of the railing. Her flat sneakers hit the concrete below. </span> <br/>
<span>“Welp, lucky fer us, I’m not allergic”, the blonde dusted her fingers off on the side of her jeans. </span> <br/>
<span>The height difference smacked Harley in the face as she looked up to meet Pamela’s eyes. They mirrored the color of the ivy she was running her fingers over just a moment before. The wind thrust towards Harley and she recognized the smell of lavender and mint. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Shall we?”, Harley managed to speak over the voice in her head screaming at her to tell Pamela she smelled like a sweet summer night. She allowed Pamela to lead them into the aged library. Cherry lips turning into a soft smile that flashed as she passed Harley and the threshold of the building. The smell of books and warm florescent lighting lead them in. Harley pranced in on Pam’s heels, trying to keep up with her, the red and black plaid shirt around her waist flowing behind her as she took long strides.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As the pair walked into the library, Harley was quick to realize she was out of comfort zone. There was an eerie quietness that fell into the echoing walls. She could hear the perfect patter of Pamela’s ankle boots making their way to the table towards the back. Though, to be honest, Harley felt she could hear her own heart about to fall through her stomach. Pamela set her books down and removed her bag, resting the strap across the back of the chair closest to the wall of books. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“So, where do you want to begin?”, the words seemed to flow out of her mouth with ease, her books already opening, their spines cracking like old bones. Harley watched as Pamela moved her foremost finger expertly across the edges of the off-white pages. Harley noted how delicately she brushed the thin paper and wondered if her touch was as gentle with everything she cared for.  </span> <br/>
<span>“I </span><span>sorta</span><span> figured you’d take </span><span>tha</span><span> lead, Pam-a-lamb", she spoke through the gentle popping of her bubblegum. Pink sugar coated her tongue and her lips and she opened her own notebook.</span> <br/>
<span>“You just tell me </span><span>whatcha</span><span> need me </span><span>ta</span><span> do an’ I’m </span><span>yer</span><span> gal, </span><em><span>Red</span></em><span>!”, Harley gave Pamela an innocent wink as she enunciated the nickname at the end of her statement. </span> <br/>
 <br/>
<span>Pamela caressed her bottom lip with the smooth skin of her thumb’s fingertip. Harley’s wide, sapphire eyes watched intently as the woman’s pink velvet tongue slipped slightly out of her perfect mouth and ran across the warm skin of her thumb. Pamela reached her hand down and flicked to the next page in her textbook with ease.  </span> <br/>
<span>“Are you always so eager to please, Harleen?”, she didn’t look up from the page she skimmed, but a teasing smirk played on her lips, barely noticeable under a half curtain of blazing hair.</span> <br/>
<span>Harley’s thoughts went hot, the words swimming in her mind like a dog paddling as fast as it could to reach shore, chaotic and messy. Her face went red, her stomach dropped to her pelvis. </span> <br/>
<span>“I - I, um, just – I just thought, since you -”, Harley attempted to articulate the words her mind knew she needed to say but the fluttering in her stomach betrayed her. </span> <br/>
<span>‘</span><em><span>This is a natural reaction to </span></em><em><span>yer</span></em><em><span> flight or fight response</span></em><span>’, she took a deep breath through her nose and her fingers played with the fabric of her shirt. She breathed out through her lips, ‘</span><em><span>Increased heartrate an’ a flippy tummy is all very </span></em><b><em><span>au</span></em></b><b><em><span>naturel</span></em></b><em><span>, Harleen’. </span></em><span>Harley’s mind ricocheted around the way Pamela’s voice sounded saying her name. It slipped out of her mouth like a toxic vapor burning its way into her ears. </span></p><p><span>“Uh, you okay, Harleen?”, the tone in which she spoke was coated with concern instead of playful teasing. </span> <br/>
<span>“Oh! Sorry! Yeah, I’m - Sorry, I just... I assumed since </span><span>ya</span><span> named off the subject fer the paper you’d - um, take the – “ </span> <br/>
<span>“</span><em><span>Lead?</span></em><span>”, Pamela parroted. </span> <br/>
<span>“Yes, ma’am!”, she perked up. Blonde hair bounced on top of her head, small strands of pink and blue stirred out of their messy knot held together by pins. She looked back to Pamela; she had slipped off her leather coat in the midst of Harley’s mental fight with herself. She folded it onto the chair next to her and tucked stray hairs behind her ear. A habit that Harleen had noticed from their previous interactions and found adorable. Pamela generally carried herself with unwavering conviction, to see her nervous ticks made her more reachable to Harley, and somehow, more captivating. As Pamela pushed her hair out of her face Harleen smiled at an unknown innocence – something that she had not seen, or noticed, before. </span> <br/>
<span>She felt the blush rise up on her pale cheeks again - </span><em><span>‘Fuckin’ sling me </span></em><em><span>offa</span></em><em><span> Wayne Enterprises’ - </span></em><span>she looked down towards her notebook, filled with small doodles and scribbles of notes followed by quips that helped her remember extra dull things she’d need at later dates. </span></p><p><span>“Harleen”, Pamela still spoke with a tone barely above a whisper. The woman raised her hand and reached across the scratched table stopping short of Harley’s notebook and her hands resting in a folded position on top of it. “Are you okay? You seem upset. We can postpone this meeting if you’d like.”</span> <br/>
<span>“No. No, </span><span>nothin</span><span>’ like that. I just – um. I don’t </span><span>wanna</span><span>... fuck it up.” </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela raised an eyebrow but stayed silent as Harley spoke.</span> <br/>
<span>“I don’t know. Ya just seemed so quick to pull the subject in class”, Harley started explaining before deciding to stop herself before she put her foot in her mouth again. “An’ call me Harley, everyone does.”</span></p><p><span>Pamela tapped the distressed table with the tips of her fingers. Years of late nights and mornings of rushed papers showed themselves through the wounds pressed into the soft wood. </span> <br/>
<span>“Harley”, her hands moved back towards her own body, sliding effortlessly across the waning varnish of the knotted pine. “Harley, you’re perfect”, she knew her own face was mirroring the red tint of Harley’s. </span> <br/>
<span>“You have nothing to be concerned about.” </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela’s words didn’t stop the quivering taking place inside of Harley’s stomach, but they did relax her nerves. She looked up to the redhead now looking back at her with her perfectly flushed face, lightly peppered with a heart pounding tinge of peach. </span> <br/>
<span>“So, </span><em><span>Harley</span></em><span>, where do </span><em><span>you </span></em><span>want to begin?”, Pamela offered an authentic smile and slid a copy of Hart’s outline for the project across the table. </span> <br/>
 <br/>
<span>Working with Pamela began to show Harley’s conception of partnership was not only wrong, but downright offensive to the reality of the word. As Pamela took notes, asked for opinions on statements – even asked for </span><em><span>permission </span></em><span>to include certain data, Harley flashbacked to Jay, making their decisions, always summoning her to-and-fro like the director of his own disturbed vision of his life – including how she fit into it. He held their money; he knew how to invest it, normally in the creep down the street and his new, lucrative, “</span><em><span>business</span></em><span>”. He never asked for a second opinion, he knew best, after all. When she tried to help Jay pick up jobs, he accused her of deliberately trying to make him look a fool. When she let him know he wasn’t giving her the sort of love she thought she was deserving of, he made sure she knew that no one else would want a woman like her. No, her life with Jay was no partnership and it was clear she didn’t know the meaning of the word. Working next to Pamela ignited a spark within Harley that she didn’t know she had. The need to be needed, to have someone rely on her as much as she relied on them for once. Pamela did not exhort Harley, she never asked her to do more than she was capable of, but seemed to </span><span>encourage</span><span> her to try. The pair set for hours, discussing local government dynamics and a broken system. Harley saw fire behind Pamela’s jade eyes. A wildfire burning down everything in her way as she swore that due process was a lie, that power fell into the hands of the wealthy. Harley could have listened to Pamela talk all night, but as the sun started to go down, they parted ways at the door of the library. The ivy creeping up the bricks catching Harley’s eye as she walked the few blocks back to her apartment building. </span></p><p>
  <span>Effortless. That was talking to Pam. Pam’s voice somehow swooped Harley up and smothered her in comfort. Harley was walking home on high, unsure if she should feel guilt or elation. The pounding of her heart gave her hope for the following day. 11 o’clock in the morning, the next time she’d see Pamela. The nervousness in her gut gave way for the voice in her head that told her that fear was inevitable and that as inevitable as that fear was, pain would surely follow. She drowned the voice in her head with the sound of her heart punching against her chest. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><span>“Okay, okay, wait, so, you’re </span><span>tellin</span><span>’ me that federal and state powers, not only collect our taxes, but are also responsible for the </span><em><span>proper </span></em><span>welfare of the people? That falls </span><span>onta</span><em><span>all </span></em><span>governin</span><span>’ bodies? State and fed? And we can’t get fuckin’ affordable </span><em><span>healthcare</span></em><span>?”, Harley seemed to flail at the thought. Her arms made their way into the air as she slumped into her seat across from Pamela at their familiar desk. </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela let out small, throaty laugh, putting her pointer finger to her lips and making a “lower” motion with her other hand. </span> </p><p><br/>
<span>“Heh, yes, actually. Not just that, but </span><em><span>often </span></em><span>due to the overlapping of multiple bodies of governance, the people they are position to protect get  </span><em><span>completely </span></em><span>fucked up,” Pamela motioned for Harley to come over to her side of the table, crooking her finger out into a “</span><em><span>come here</span></em><span>” wiggle. Harley jumped up and quickly slid over to the side of the table that housed Pam. Harley sat in the seat to her left, with her slick leather jacket draped over the back. As Harley found her position in the wooden seat, Pamela’s signature scent wafted towards her. Lavender circled her and the sharp aroma of mint caressed Harley’s face as she leaned in towards Pamela’s notes. </span> <br/>
<span>Harley’s loose set pigtails rested on her shoulders, blue and pink tickled to edges of Pamela’s notebook as she looked over her expert handwriting. Tight and clean, reflective of Pamela’s studious practices. </span> </p><p><br/>
<span>“See, </span><span>Hurricane Katrina is now an infamous case of how several levels of government and overlapping districts can result in absolute tragedy”, Pamela flipped a few pages over and then pulled a small book out of her bag which laid next to the legs of her chair, “</span><span>Katrina </span><span>exposed</span><span> holes within the federal government.”</span> <br/>
<span>Pamela excitedly continued on, “Ultimately, federalism is the belief that state government or the federal government will work towards a goal, or in this case, a solution for a national disaster, right?”, Harley nodded in understanding. Pamela smiled as she talked, her words spilling out quickly, “It doesn’t always fail, but when it does, like in the case of Katrina, oh boy, is it a real </span><em><span>shit show</span></em><span>. It shows a severe lack of an expedited process in government and that the bystander effect can and will happen, even on governing levels.” </span> <br/>
<span>Pam grinned, a sense of pride washed upon her face as she turned her head towards Harley, as she did, their eyes met. A beat. Another beat. </span> </p><p><br/>
<span>“I - “, Harley started, never breaking eye contact with Pamela. She licked her bottom lip and took it between her teeth. “Um, the bystander effect.” </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela flicked her pencil between her fingers and looked down at her hands.</span> <br/>
<span>Harley continued on, deciding not to pay attention to nuances she knew she would be better off pretending she didn’t see. </span> <br/>
<span>“I know ‘bout the bystander effect”, she started, “and I know it pretty well </span><em><span>ifIdosaysomyself</span></em><em><span>!”</span></em> <br/>
<span>Harley propped her chin up on the palm of her left-hand and continued on, “Do </span><span>ya</span><span> know a lot ‘bout that one?”</span> <br/>
<span>Pam offered a quiet “</span><em><span>no</span></em><span>” and the shake of her head. She turned her eyes to Harley but did not face her, perfectly round apple cheeks appeared to turn up in a smile out of her peripheral. Her lovely heart shaped tattoo contrasted against a slight flush. Pamela wondered if Harley’s pale skin flushed all over. She wondered if her accent grew more prominent when flustered or her voice would shake between her lips. She wondered how far down the tattoos that teased exposed skin drifted. Wondered what it’d be like to follow those lines with trembling fingers. Pamela watched Harley’s mouth as she spoke about the apathy of the human race, how people don’t stand up to help. Harley spoke of how 1964 seemed centuries away, but how 30% of people still stand by and pass responsibility on to the next and then the next. </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela watched Harley as her blue eyes went wild and wide. She watched animated hands weave a story of heartache, how a girl sat bleeding to death for hours waiting on the help of strangers surrounding her. As she finished her well-welcomed tangent, she looked to Pamela who sat captivated by her storytelling. </span> <br/>
<span>“But that’s why I </span><span>wanna</span><span> help people”, she finished. </span> <br/>
<span>“Why?” </span> <br/>
<span>Harley’s eyes lit up, “</span><span>’Cause</span><span>... as early as last year, the international study they conducted on the bystander effect proved the total opposite of what they thought they’d get! People stood up when they thought no one else would. </span><span>‘Cause</span><span> once we figure out there’s an issue, we can help, bring attention to it... break the cycle.”</span> <br/>
<span>As she finished, she chewed her lip again. Pamela didn’t look away from Harley’s mouth as she finished her sentence. Forest eyes made their way up from a soft lipped smile to Harley’s small heart-shaped tattoo and finally up to eyes that made Pamela think about the sky that rained down on her garden in the Spring. </span></p><p>
  <span>The two of them continued working side by side, but their conversation slowed. The air suddenly palpable with the heavy fog of words left unsaid. Harley’s handwriting wasn’t always legible, hopefully a sign of an eventual MD to match sloppy handwriting. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Betta be at least a fuckin’ Ph.D. after all this shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, Harley sighed to herself. The course load was a lot, sure, but she was certain it’d be so worth it. Plus, it wasn’t all hard work, Jon’s big </span>
  <span>ol</span>
  <span>’ Halloween bash was </span>
  <span>comin</span>
  <span>’ up by the end of the month. Harley never missed a good party. She’d get to dress up and dance. She loved dancing, hadn’t been out since before Jay and she had secretly been </span>
  <span>lookin</span>
  <span>’ forward to it since she found out about it last month. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley appeared deep in thought, chewing on the cap of her pen, brow furrowed. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wonder what I </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>oughta</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> wear... Sexy doctor too </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>ontha</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> nose? Can’t really make a clown sexy. Does it even hafta be sexy? Maybe this is the year I go scar-</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, Harley’s thoughts were stopped dead in their tracks as she felt something brush the back of her calf. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Eep!’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela’s crossed legs had moved closer to Harley as they had studied on through the past hour. Harley hadn’t paid much mind to it until this moment. Surely Pamela hadn’t meant to rub her foot up against her leg. Harley pretended to not notice and turned her attention back to her notes, though her mind was unable to focus on the paragraph she read over and over...and over again. Pamela leaned in, now just inches from her. Harley felt drunk on the scent of Pam’s hair. She looked to her right and watched as Pamela continued to read from Harley’s notes, occasionally highlighting something she found interesting. She didn’t look up from the blonde’s half-hearted scribbled notes as her foot moved across the back of Harley’s calf again, or as her exposed ankle slide further up her jeans and towards the back of Harley’s knee and thigh. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>What is happening, what is happening, what the </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span>fuck </span>
    </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>is happening?!’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s brain was short-circuiting. Was Pamela-</span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span>-Isley, Pamela- “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t fail classes</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, miss queen of business casual and badass quips-Isley playing goddamn “</span>
  <em>
    <span>footsie</span>
  </em>
  <span>” with her right now? Harley swallowed hard; her throat tightened and heat rose to her face. Something that was happening more often when she was in Pamela’s company. </span>
  
</p><p><span>Turning to face Pamela, she tried her best to speak, “Pam, I -”. </span> <br/>
<span>Harley faced the girl next to her only to see that Pamela was already looking right at her, her bottom lip between her teeth, head tilted slightly, her ankle still laid against Harley’s leg. Heat was no longer just rising to Harley’s face but between her legs, the pit of her stomach heavy with want. </span></p><p>
  <span>What would it be like to dig her fingers into, thick, red hair? How would it feel to climb across those long legs and into the lap of someone who could lead her with a commanding but gentle touch or to see lidded clover eyes look up at her before thick eyelashes kissed her pale skin as they drown in sheets and whispers? The stillness of the library crept into Harley’s intrusive thoughts and around her petite neck. Slithering up around the faux leather of the choker on her neck like the rough, calloused hands that once left bruises on her skin.  Could Harley even be wanted when her skin held horrible secrets? Could she be held with tenderness when all she’s known for years was the harsh reality of heartbreak, long sleeves and excuses.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Pa- Pammie”, Harley’s voice shook and she blinked until it felt like she couldn’t open her eyes anymore. Desperately she wanted to close the distance between them, put her </span>
  <span>hands on</span>
  <span> Pam’s body, graze her fingers over tempting wine-colored lips and feel softness instead of the strike of wickedness and the taste of acidic venom. As quickly as it was all happening, it all came crashing down. Pamela uncrossed her legs and Harley felt her presence shift as she sat up, further away from her. Harley shot her eyes open, almost instinctively reaching out next to her and for the warmth she just felt. </span>
  
</p><p><span>Pamela lifted her hand and ran her fingers through her hair. For the first time since they had met, Harley felt what she believed to be nervousness exuding from the pointed woman. Pamela cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand, her red hair glossing under yellow lights. </span> <br/>
 <br/>
<span>“Red, do </span><span>ya</span><span> like coffee? I know a wicked place.” </span></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Ghosts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harley takes Ivy to her secret hideout. Ivy is a gay disaster. There are plants.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Okay, so you’re </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>crushin</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>’ on Pam.’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley was mentally smacking herself. Of course, she was crushing on Pamela. Her stomach doing cartwheels, the blush on her pale cheeks that wouldn’t go away. Hell, even the tinglin’ in her fingers and the heat growing in the pit of her stomach anytime she was near the woman. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Whether or not the powerhouse of a woman would be interested in her, however, was another question. Sure, Harley had been with a few girls in her prime. Before </span>
  <em>
    <span>he-who-mustn't-be-named</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A few chaste kisses at parties here and there. The kind that would earn hoots and hollers from the boys who were more than a few beers in. A few nights she promised to not tell boyfriends about. A few sleepovers that skirted the edges of playful curiosity and something much </span>
  <em>
    <span>less </span>
  </em>
  <span>playful. Hands running across skin and fingers finding their way up skirts. Oh no, Harley was no stranger to secrets. The extent of those hidden moments, the build-up of guilt and want, that was something different entirely, however. She had always been blanketed in some sort of secrecy. Whether it was pretending to be her girl’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>who just happen to spend the night every chance she got or even </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>talkin</span>
  <span>’ to that same girl in the halls of their school so no one would know she spoke to the local riff-raff. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>One day, somewhere along the way, Harley’s secrets became darker. Secrets that spilled out of the deepest cracks in basements. Secrets that grew from innocence - like girlfriends covering each other’s mouths when giggles grew too loud late at night, into something coated in pain and loneliness. Then turning into itself, hiding behind a curtain of fear. Fear that she had ended up just like her Pa. Fear that Jay’s jobs were going to catch up to her eventually and fear that he would never give her the life he promised her. A life of normalcy. Kids runnin’ in a yard with a white picket fence and a 9 to 5 that promised security instead of the rush of adrenaline provided by hidin' from blue and red lights in the dead of night. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Could Pamela even understand nights hiding in alleyways as couples made their way into town, losing their wallets to sticky fingers and a sweet smile? Could she ever tell her of teeth drenched in vodka, sinking into her skin, leaving behind bruises and stinging with emptiness? Did she even need to know about early mornings, when she’d be up waiting on a man who eventually came crawling home with blood on his hands and no wounds to show for it? Harley had come to expect that she’d be running from her ghosts for the rest of her life. That she’d be keeping those skeletons nicely tucked away in the closet of her corner office. That those ghosts would be buried deep in the ground despite the ache to scream the truth until her lungs burnt. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Despite all the doubts and truths that Harley had ushered to the forefront of her brain – here she was, walking Pamela to her hideaway, one of her very own secrets. To the place she went to not be so lonely, to fill her thoughts of sweetness and a future that could be more than a blur of mistakes. As they walked in silence, Harley’s thoughts weren’t filled with sugar, but instead the feeling of being drunk on the woman next to her, her body smothering in the idea of being held with warmth and being wrapped up in lavender like a blanket. Harley wasn’t sure why, but walking with Pam, keeping in time with her steps and the comforting aura that the redhead granted her felt like something she’d never known. Another well-kept secret just out of her reach, but at the same time, it was all so familiar to Harley that she could trace Pamela’s outline with her eyes closed. No, it didn’t appear that there was any hiding from it. Not this time. This was the moment she awakened ghosts. </span>
  
</p><p><span>The wind whipped at Harley’s bare lips and nose and she found herself instinctively seeking warmth, walking closer to Pamela. The woman didn’t say a word or offer a glance, but instead closed the small space between them, bumping their shoulders together as they reached their destination. The outside of The Daily Grind hid in a row of brick storefronts, tucked neatly between a small print shop and hole-in-the-wall bookstore that was barely open 3 days a week. The café's tinted glass was lightly illuminated by the Edison bulbs hanging at different lengths in the large front window. Harley walked in, holding the door for Pamela as the smell of coffee drafted towards them.</span> <br/>
 <br/>
<span>“Thank you”, Pam spoke in a hushed voice as if she were afraid to disturb the few patrons inside at various tables and chairs. Harley smiled and led the way to the front of the shop, grabbing a plastic-wrapped brownie from basket on the counter.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Eddie! </span>
  <span>Ya</span>
  <span> got payin’ customers waitin’ out here!”, Harley teased, her voice slightly raised in mock attitude. She quickly unwrapped the chocolate chipped brownie and took a bite. She wiggled her eyebrows at Pamela who in turn looked mortified, her mouth slightly open in shock, as if Harley had just walked in on a private dinner and started eating other people’s food. Harley swallowed the baked good in her mouth and let out a small laugh as Eddie made his way from the back, passing through a red curtain. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela took in the man behind the counter. Tall, slender and pale, though not as light as Harley, not even by a mile. His thick hazelnut hair pushed back and slightly tousled. He offered a grin to Harley, full and toothy, before noticing the woman next to her. He raised his thick eyebrow, looking Pamela up and down with confused eyes, before looking back to Harley, tilting his head like a confused Pomeranian when you say its name too many times. Pamela watched the exchange as if she were dissecting fragile specimens under her microscope. Finally, the man spoke, breaking the silence between them. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Well, hello, ladies! What a pleasant surprise, my </span><em><span>favorite </span></em><span>girl”, he shot a quick wink of his sapphire eyes to Harley who giggled and leaned forward against the counter, “Finally brings a friend.”</span> <br/>
<span>Pamela watched as Harley bent over the counter towards Eddie, wiggling in her skin tight jeans just enough for Pam to become increasingly aware that she was staring for too long. Harley’s excitement at the exchange was pure and sweet but left Pamela with a sour taste on her tongue. </span></p><p><span>“So, girls, what will it be today?”, Eddie grabbed his pencil and pad from behind the register, ready to write as they spoke. </span> <br/>
<span>“Oh, </span><span>ya</span><span> know me, dollface,” Harley spoke first smiling sweetly at the man behind the counter. She leaned further over the counter. Pamela found herself inspecting Harley’s shapely thighs again as she spoke. “Anythin’ sweet. But maybe today somethin’ cold. Think I could use somethin’ ta cool me down a </span><span>lil</span><span>’”. She playfully flicked the nametag attached to his apron and slid down and out of her position over the counter. </span></p><p>
  <span>She turned to Pamela who was standing slightly back, away from Harley, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her leather coat. She didn’t seem to realize that Harley had ordered, not moving her eyes off of Harley. Listening to the playful exchange between the man behind the counter and Harley left her with a dull ache, no matter how much she knew Harley wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get jealous over, she was. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>This is why she brought me here,</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Pamela nervously fiddled with the change in her pocket, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course she’d have a boyfriend, what was I thinking?’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Pam-a-lamb?”, Harley had slipped in front of Pamela and gently reached out to run her fingers over the cool faux leather of Pam’s sleeve. The tender touch Harley laid onto Pamela’s arm brought her out of her thoughts.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“What?”, the words came out colder than Pamela had intended, she realized it too late, noticing a twinge of pain shoot over Harley’s expression. </span> <br/>
<span>“What do you want?”, Harley motioned to the chalkboard menu behind Eddie, who was still offering a slight smile and soft expression. Pamela noted that Harley must make everyone she interacts with feel warm and a little bit more kind, considering she felt she was being outwardly rude in that moment. </span> <br/>
<span>“Medium morning blend, two cream, hot”, as she spoke, she didn’t look away from the menu. “Please”, she added as she glanced towards Eddie, trying her hardest to swallow her pride. He looked as if he wanted to say something, opening his mouth slightly before closing it tight, offering a small smile and writing it down on his notepad. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Coming right up!”, he happily turned heel and went to grinding chocolate colored beans. Harley picked up what little was left of her brownie and gently grabbed Pamela’s sleeve, pulling her towards her favorite spot. The two made their way to Harley’s beloved velvet blue couch in the darkest corner of the café. As she sat her things down and kicked off her shoes, Pamela chuckled despite herself. Harley was no stranger here, that was apparent. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sooo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <span>whatcha</span>
  <span> think, Red?”, Harley sat on her legs and looked to Pamela as she sat her things down neatly. She gently sat on the sofa next to the blonde and swung one of her legs over the other into her signature position. Harley was eager for her response. Pamela could see her bright blue eyes looking at her with a glint of hope, like a child showing their parent a drawing they did in class. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s great. Very comfortable. I can’t believe I’ve never realized this was here”, Pamela didn’t look at Harley as she spoke, the idea of Harley tucked away here seeing that boy behind the counter, giving her sweet smiles away to him and innocent and playful touches, made her feel sad. She had barely known Harleen, but it was clear that her energy was infectious. She brought light to the people around her, she smiled and it reminded Pamela that the world wasn’t always cold as stone. She had just hoped she’d get more of that light.</span>
  
</p><p><span>Worry filled Pamela’s body. She became acutely aware that she had obviously misread the situation with Harley. </span><em><span>‘What the fuck was I even thinking?</span></em><span>’, Pamela scolded herself. She half thought about full-on running out the door and never showing up to their political science class again. </span><em><span>‘Playing fucking </span></em><b><em><span>footsie </span></em></b><em><span>with a girl you barely know, really, Pamela? What is this, the 1950’s? How mortifying.’</span></em> <br/>
<span>Harley’s soft voice broke Pamela from her own mental chastising. </span> <br/>
<span>“Yeah, </span><span>ya</span><span> can totally miss it if </span><span>ya</span><span> don’t know it’s here,” she pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging her own legs. “I turned on the wrong block my first week here,” she smiled at the memory of frantically looking at her broken screen, trying to decipher the maps app on her phone. She knew this part of Gotham like she had lived here her whole life now. </span> <br/>
<span>“I got all turned around </span><span>tryna</span><span> find the way to my new apartment, landed on this street”, she continued on. “I came in </span><span>lookin</span><span>’ for directions. That’s how I met Eddie!”, she finished her sentence, nodding in the direction of the counter and the man, Eddie, mixing their drinks with a flair, mouthing the words to the song on the radio and swaying his hips. </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela watched Harley smile as Eddie made eye contact with her. Choosing to showoff, the women watched as he twirled the silver stirring stick between his fingers and before promptly dropping it on the floor below. Harley cackled as he tinged pink and grabbed the stick from the floor, tossing it in the “dirty” bin, then grabbing another in one swoop. </span></p><p><span>Pamela saw the smile linger on the blonde’s face and she felt the slight stab of guilt again. </span> <br/>
<span>“So, how long have you two been dating, then?”, she switched the position of her legs and looked at Harley with serious eyes. The girl next to her looked dumbfounded before finally finding words. “</span><em><span>What?”</span></em><span>, she practically spat out.</span></p><p>
  <span>“You and Eddie”, Pamela motioned with her finger to the counter and then to Harley. Harley could not contain her laughter. Now understanding Pamela’s question, she rolled, her head thrown back. She calmed herself and wiped her eyes, hooking her fingers under her eyeliner, making sure to not smear it, she leaned towards Pamela. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“You cannot be </span><em><span>serious</span></em><span>, Pam, that’s hilarious”, Harley said quietly trying to not gather any more wandering eyes in their direction. Pamela’s face lost its color.</span> <br/>
<span>“</span><em><span>What</span></em><span>? What do you mean </span><em><span>‘hilarious’</span></em><span>? You were all, </span><em><span>‘</span></em><em><span>dollface</span></em><em><span>’, </span></em><span>and he was all, </span><em><span>‘</span></em><em><span>winkwink</span></em><em><span>’</span></em><span>”, Pamela talked with animated hands, clearly a little frazzled, her voice coming out louder than she expected. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward with her elbows balanced on her knees. “I just assumed”, she said quieter this time, still slightly confused. </span> <br/>
<span>Harley’s expression softened as she leaned in towards Pamela. </span><em><span>‘Nerd’</span></em><span>, Harley thought with a smile, chewing her lip lightly. </span> <br/>
<span>She brought herself closer to Pamela, scooting over on the sofa and placing one arm around her shoulders, bringing her lips up to soft red hair. She thought she imagined a chill run over Pamela as she gently touched her shoulder. “Pamela, Eddie doesn’t bat for our team”, she laughed out in a whisper against Pamela’s hair. Pamela shuddered slightly as Harley’s breath fell against her ear. The blonde held up her other hand and offered a loose wrist and a whisper of “</span><em><span>you know</span></em><span>” before leaning back a little bit.</span> <br/>
<span>Pamela felt heat rise to her face, both from the embarrassment she felt assuming that Harley had brought her here to get coffee so she could </span><span>fend</span><span> her off without hurting her feelings and then because she became aware that she missed the touch of the woman next to her as she backed away. </span></p><p>
  <span>“I, um, - I am so sorry – I just -”, Pamela began before getting frustrated with herself and burying her freckled face into her hands and then running her fingers through her hair. She knew Harley could see the blush on her face but couldn’t find it in her to finish her sentence out of fear of making herself into a bigger fool. Pamela’s feigned confidence came from exhibiting control in situations. Harley was making that harder and harder with every interaction. The idea of flirting with Harley in the library was impetuous and started off innocently. She had found herself absentmindedly running her ankle across the back of Harley’s leg, but had been pulled further into the moment, even encouraged, as she felt the girl’s breath hitch and her body stiffen against her touch.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Besides,” Pamela heard Harley’s voice speak quietly, the girl still close to her. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”</span> <br/>
<span>Pamela nodded in understanding, realizing that her chances at replaying the events from the library were dwindling away as their conversation continued. She saw Eddie approaching with two drinks out of her peripheral but didn’t dare look away from Harley’s blue eyes out of fear of not getting another opportunity to get this close again. Eddie was moving closer, she could hear his sneakers making their way over to them now. “</span><em><span>Or a</span></em><em><span>girlfriend</span></em><span>”, Harley continued casually, licking her bottom lip before smiling up at Eddie. </span></p><p>
  <span>Pamela’s mind was in overdrive. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>What does that mean? Did she just...’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, her thoughts trailed off as Eddie spoke cheerily to Harley and sat their drinks down on the table in front of them. She had never actually been in this situation before. Outwardly flustered by another woman, another person. She spent most of her time alone with her plants. The few friends she had were nothing like Harley. Pamela couldn’t deny her attraction to the girl. Her tattoos, her soft, pale, skin and the ever-present smell of sugar and incense. Pamela had been physically attracted to women before. Hell, mostly women – but she had never been so drawn to every aspect of another person. Especially someone so opposite her, male or female. She thought back to Jason... the reason she came back to Gotham. She decided it best to save those thoughts for another day, reached for the mug in front of her and smiled at Eddie in thanks. She eyed Harley’s drink questionably. Large, iced, pink. Strawberries swimming in it and a swirl of some sort of sugary syrup running along the inside of the glass. Pam raised her eyebrow at the drink before bringing her own drink to her nose to take in the bitter smell of coffee.</span>
  
</p><p><span>Harley looked to Pamela as she lifted the warm cup to her red lips and sipped, the feeling of joy pulsating off of her. “</span><em><span>Ah</span></em><span>, Edward, this is great”, she spoke with genuine pleasure and Eddie beamed with pride. </span> <br/>
<span>“I’ll leave you two ladies to it then!”</span> <br/>
<span>And with that, long legs carried the man away, stopping to check on a gentleman at a round table near the window as he went. </span></p><p>
  <span>Harley’s eyes watched as Pamela brought hot glass to her lips again. She grasped her cold glass, condensation gathering on her fingers as she watched the shape of Pamela’s lips change into a sweet smile. Warmth gathered in Harley’s chest. It felt like a gentle pouring of sunlight that spilled out from her chest and into the room around them. In that moment, Harley was certain that she hadn’t known warmth in far too long. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes quickly turned into an hour and then two as they sat and talked about things. Real things. Things that Pamela hadn’t realized she so badly needed to say. She spoke of her family. Her mother’s untimely death and her father’s quick marriage to a woman abroad. How she tried her hand at a nice school in Seattle. Sure, she left out the part about the professor she met who stole her research, took advantage of her and stole more from her than she cared to share with the world. Harley had offered kind eyes when Pamela spoke. Listening to what she said with intent, with care. Like she would take the weight Pamela bared, throw it into the sun and tell her it’d all be okay in the end.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley adds to her list of things she notices and enjoys about Pam as they sit for far too long on the soft velvet of the sofa. She notices how Pamela plays with her own fingers. How long and elegant they are, how gently they grasp the handle of her second cup of coffee and how they run across the texture of the couch under them as she leans in to talk, placing her hand next to her. Harley notices how Pam’s eyes light up when she speaks of her “babies”, her plants. Various hybrids she’s nursed to life and how precious the ecosystem is. How precious life is to Pamela. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“I can’t believe they are going to flatten Robinson Park”, Pamela speaks, a hint of real anger as she sits her finished cup down on the table. A sigh playing on her lips.</span> <br/>
<span>“What? Where?”</span> <br/>
<span>“Robinson Park. Downtown”, Pamela sits up as she speaks, more serious than before, her hands coming out again as she starts to speak. “The lower half of the park. The state wants to buy it. It’s a private park. The Wayne family owns it. The state is offering a pretty chunk of change to take over half of it”, she’s clearly perturbed by the thought. Harley notices Pamela’s brow furrow as she speaks. </span> <br/>
<span>“Why </span><span>tha</span><span> hell would they </span><span>wanna</span><span> buy </span><em><span>part </span></em><span>of a park?”, Harley can’t even begin to understand what the purpose of destroying something Pamela clearly loves so much could be. </span> <br/>
<span>“They want to continue the freeway through it”, Harley can see that Pam is feeling defeated. More than likely by the idea of machinery coming in and mowing down whatever is there for some </span><em><span>fuckin’ road</span></em><span>. “It’s part of the city’s plan to ‘</span><em><span>Grow Gotham</span></em><span>’, pretty fucking ironic if you ask me.”</span></p><p><span>Harley hears pain in her voice and, she decides right then and there, that she never wants to see Pamela hurt again. Sadness radiates off of Pamela as if she could feel the ache of the planet on her shoulders when she talks of trees and community. Harley stands up suddenly, shooting straight up with a small bounce.</span> <br/>
<span>“Take me there”, Harley speaks directly, looking right into Pamela’s eyes. She offers her hand to the woman on the couch. </span> <br/>
<span>Pam looks up, confused, but takes Harley’s hand. Soft and smaller than her own, she can feel the contrast of her slightly callused fingers against creamy skin. Harley quickly pulls her to her feet before gathering her bag and trash and turning to Pamela. “Please”, Harley swings her back over her shoulder, “take me there.”</span></p><p>
  
</p><p><span>Pamela summoned a Lyft on her phone as they paid their bill, letting Harley know it won’t take long to get there – just a short drive downtown. Pamela’s heart won’t stand still. She’s was only brought out of the trance the app on her phone has on her by Harley lightly tugging on her sleeve. </span> <br/>
<span>“Pam, I can pay you back for the ride”, she doesn’t break eye contact with Pamela as she speaks. She’s dead serious. Pamela looks at her with annoyance before bringing her hand up and waving off the offer. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Harley, you never have to pay me back for anything”, the statement comes out blunt, but honest. Harley feels the guilt in her gut, though. She knows better than that. There’s always a catch. Always a way of paying back a debt, no matter what anyone says. </span>
  
</p><p><span>A shining black sedan squealed onto the curb and the girls found their seat in the back. Pamela sat with her hands in her lap, holding her bag in place while looking out the window. She listened as Harley happily made small talk with the driver as they took twists and turns into Downtown Gotham. Ten minutes later they are pulling up to the park, lush and green, highlighted in golden and red leaves. </span> <br/>
<span>“</span><em><span>Woah</span></em><span>”, Harley pressed her hand against the glass like child looking at a kitten through the glass window of a pet store. </span></p><p><span>“Seeya, Dave! Tell Sophie I said ‘good luck’ with her math quiz! Those multiplications are tricky!”, Harley bent over and waved through the window at their driver as Pamela stood on the sidewalk waiting for their exchange to be over. As Harley walked onto the sidewalk, the sedan pulled onto the road, beeping happily. </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela was smiling. She knew she was smiling, but it felt so good. Seeing someone treat the people around them with such sincerity, that’s what Harley always did. She made strangers feel welcome and open. Pamela had noticed it the entire drive – how easily </span><em><span>Dave </span></em><span>had found it to talk to Harley. How she had him talking about his family within moments. Pamela always lacked </span><em><span>people skills</span></em><span>, she often found the exchanges tiring, but with Harley, it was different experience all together. Obviously, that wasn’t just true for her, but everyone Harley touched in her life.</span></p><p><span>“This is Robinson Park”, Pamela said as she walked under the black iron archway. Harley on her heels in awe. The trees grew as large as the buildings encompassing them. They twisted and bent up towards the sunlight. Harley wondered how old they were and ran her fingers over aged bark, following behind Pam, who was quietly taking in the fresh air, her eyes closed against the gentle breeze. Harley swallowed hard as she looked to Pamela, her red hair moving slightly in the wind like the leaves around them.</span> <br/>
<em><span>‘Okay, still a goddess – </span></em><em><span>justa</span></em><em><span> plant goddess’</span></em></p><p>
  <span>Harley looked around her at the large trees, some still green, others turning golden and red. She noticed the vines overtaking the iron fencing around them and thought back to the ivy hanging on the brick walls of the library. The memory brought a slight flush to her cheeks, which only burnt hotter when Pamela moved closer to her. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“I planted these trees”, Pamela motioned towards a line of young trees. “It’ll take years for them to grow as large as the ones surrounding them, but eventually they will.” </span> <br/>
<span>She put her hand behind Harley, letting it rest on her lower back, turning her slightly to one tree in particular. Harley felt her stomach jump as she tried not to lean into Pamela’s gentle touch, but found it hard to resist. She finally gave in just a little, allowing Pamela’s hand to push into her back and guide her.</span> <br/>
<span>“</span><span>Betula pendula”, Pamela stated before removing her hand from Harley’s lower back. Harley felt herself whimper, hoping the noise didn’t actually escape her lips. </span> <br/>
<span>She looked over to Pam who was running her fingers across the small tree’s white bark. </span> <br/>
<span>“White birch.”</span> <br/>
<span>Harley lifted her hand, finding the bark of the tree with her own fingertips. </span> <br/>
<span>“It’s beautiful, Pam.”</span> <br/>
<span>“It’s endangered.” </span></p><p>
  <span>The blonde looked into Pamela’s eyes and saw sadness wash over her. This time, reaching out to Pamela’s hand, still on the white bark of the tree. She picked up her hand in her own, removing it from the worn white wood of the tree. She quietly held her hand for a moment, running her thumb over Pamela’s knuckles before letting go. She wanted to bring Pamela into her, hold her tight. Wanted to tell her that she’d do anything she can to save the park. Tell her that all she wanted to lay in the grass here in the middle of the park and listen to Pamela talk about </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever </span>
  </em>
  <span>for as long as she could. Harley glanced up and noticed Pam’s cheeks tinge pink as she tucked stray red hair behind her ear.</span>
  
</p><p><span>The pair continued on for a while, the pattern of Harley pointing to especially pretty flowers and Pamela offering scientific names for them, sometimes accompanied by fun facts. As they made their way to the end of the park, they reached a small wooden fence with a hand sawed and nailed together gate, waist high and stained in a chestnut. Pamela reached across the threshold and unlocked the gate, holding it open.</span> <br/>
<span>“After you,” she smiled as she let Harley take the lead this time. She latched the gate shut behind them and followed after Harley as they walked slowly through rows of fresh vegetables. Carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, all looking fresh and well loved. Their bright colors stood out around green leaves. Harley turned down another row to find fruit trees and plants. Brightly colored strawberries and red apples tempted her down the line of trees as if she were Eve in Eden. </span> <br/>
<span>“What is this, Red?”, she turned to see Pamela looking at her with a smile. Pride seemed to fill the redhead as she spoke, smiling wide. </span> <br/>
<span>“This is the community garden, Harley”, she smiled and pulled an apple down from the tree next to her and tossed it to the blonde. Harley caught it with two hands. “Of course, the apple trees were already here. Though, they did need a lot of love... but, I did the strawberries and the vegetables myself when I moved back to Gotham.”</span> <br/>
<span>“You did </span><em><span>this</span></em><span>?”, she gestured all around her with wide, animated arms, her smile growing.</span> <br/>
<span>“I did.”</span> <br/>
<span>“Pamela, that’s </span><span>amaz</span><span>-”, Pamela interrupted Harley before she could finish her thought. </span> <br/>
<span>“It’s not. It’s necessary”, she started. She slowly moved to stand behind Harley, </span><span>subtly</span><span> pointing over her shoulder to a part of the park that held several makeshift tents and people gathering under large trees. “I gather the food once a week and take it to local shelters”, she says it as if it means nothing, but to Harley, who has known the need for a meal she couldn’t afford, it means more than Pamela could ever know. “Though, the berries don’t grow well during the colder months.”</span></p><p><span>She continued on, “See, Harley, Robinson Park is more than just the oldest park in Gotham”, the wind circled them, leaves rustling harder than before. “It’s shelter for some, it’s a meal for others.” </span> <br/>
<span>Harley turned to face Pamela as the wind circled them. Pam’s hair was messy, in her face, beautiful and wild, much more unkempt than usual. </span></p><p>
  <span>Harley realized too late that she was reaching her hand up to Pamela. There was barely any distance between them and she swore she could feel her heart pounding against the fleece of her sweater. Harley’s fingers moved forward, though her mind was screaming at her not to touch Pam. It felt like her hand moved of its own accord. Her fingers found their way up to Pam’s face, gently pushing a few out of place red hairs out of her face. Her eyes stayed on Pamela’s before looking down to inviting lips for a moment too long. After what felt like years, she moved her hand away from Pam’s face before her fingers found her own pigtail, running a tattooed finger through the faded pink strands on the end. Pamela’s voice doesn’t come despite her want to say something, anything. Harley glances down at their feet and notices Pam digging the toe of her ankle boot into the dirt under her feet and fiddling with something in her pocket. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something in Pamela’s language, the way her mouth makes perfect words. Something in her touch. Harley moves a step closer, she knows those ghosts are clawing their way out of the darkness, so close to something beautiful, so close to something real – ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, this is -</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Pamela, what can we do? What do you need?”, Harley says it before she even registers it’s coming out of her mouth. Her lower stomach dances - </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘different.’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p><span>Pamela’s breath comes out wearily, as she looks towards the sky, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket. She lets out a huff before landing on, “Well, there’s a board meeting coming up, I’ve been thinking of...</span><em><span>attending</span></em><span>.” The emphasis on the final word didn’t go unnoticed to Harley.</span> <br/>
<span>“That’s a great idea!”</span> <br/>
<span>“In theory, </span><em><span>yes</span></em><span>. However, I am not a sitting member of the board and it is a </span><em><span>closed </span></em><span>meeting.”</span></p><p><span>Harley closes her eyes and listens to the children playing deeper in the park. The joyous screams of kids chasing each other sends her to a place she remembers all too well. Jay standing in front of her in the park near their house, telling her they </span><em><span>have </span></em><span>to do this job. </span><em><span>Begging </span></em><span>her to do this job with him. One last job and they’ll be done, he’ll buy her a nice house in the ‘burbs. He’ll stop hurting people, hurting her. She can still feel the cold steel of the jungle gym under her hands.</span> <br/>
<span>It wasn’t the last job, though, not even close. She opens her eyes and finally looks at Pamela, standing there, green eyes upturned to the sky, not asking for anything from Harley. There’s one thing that Harley knows for certain though, that she’d do anything to make sure Pamela gets to see her little white birch grow up big and strong. </span></p><p><span>“We have to crash it”, Harley’s statement brings Pamela’s attention to her. “We have to crash the meeting.” </span> <br/>
<span>Pamela knows when she looks down at Harley that she is only met with determination. Her bright lips turn ear to ear in the largest grin Harley’s ever seen on her face. A look that tells Harley she may have been waiting on someone to tell her to do just that.</span></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. An Invitation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pamela takes on Wayne Enterprises and the board of directors. Things take a turn.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>you can have a lil' spice, as a treat ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Beep,  </em> <em> bee </em> <em>  -  </em> </p><p>The routine sound of Pamela’s alarm came to a quick stop as she reached over to her desk and gently tapped her screen. Every morning, 6 o’clock in the morning, like clockwork. The only difference being that today she was already awake and sipping her morning coffee by the time her alarm rang out. </p><p>Pamela brought her mug to her lips, swallowing down the last drink of her coffee – bitter and black. Cream was a luxury she wasn’t affording herself today. Pam set her cup down on the edge of her desk, the porcelain clanging against the raw slab of mahogany much harder than the woman had intended.  </p><p><em> ‘Nerves’ </em> , Pamela thought to herself, deciding to hurry along her morning. The longer she spent thinking of the day that lie ahead of her, the more nervous she grew. Today was the day she had hoped for, practiced for. The day she walks right up to the board of directors, the Wayne family and  <em> several  </em>lawyers, trying to convince them that Robinson Park is much more than just a sheet of grass with a few trees scattered on top – potential concrete fodder.  </p><p>Confronting the board, going behind Bruce’s back to try to save the park was something she had daydreamed about, but definitely something she wouldn’t have put into action if not for the <em> intense  </em>support from Harleen.  </p><p>Harley flustered Pamela; she woke things inside of her that she didn’t even know lived there. Harley was so full of passion, so full of care. That bubbling blonde scooted right into Pamela’s life one day and never turned back. Pamela never asked why Harley came crashing into her life, she didn’t care to know the reasons behind their fated meeting that day. Red hair strewn across the sidewalk, the smell of freshly trimmed grass and bubblegum assaulting her all at once. No, Pamela didn’t dare ask. Whether due to fear of losing a newfound happiness, like that of one she hadn’t felt since she was a child tending to the garden with her mother, or because when she was around the petite, tattooed, blonde the dark hunger growing inside of Pamela couldn’t be sated. That exact flurry of conflicting feelings was the precise reason Pam had given up on most people a long time ago.  </p><p>The redhead’s slender fingers fastened the button of her pants with purpose before sliding down the black fabric of her chinos. Pamela bent down to cuff the bottom of her pants, her mind wandering to a simpler time, a time before her mother was sick, losing weight at a rapid pace and in bed more than usual; a time before her father drank too much gin and before she knew what the back of his hand felt like against her face. Her father was a cold man. He always was. Even before her mother got sick, he was always stern, keeping his family at arm’s length on the best days.  </p><p>Pam walked over to her closet and turned the knob, the chill of the metal causing goosebumps to form over her exposed skin. Wrapping her arms around bare midriff, she looked through the shirts on the hangers in front of her before ultimately deciding on a loose button-down top, more business than casual and a deep forest color, accenting her mint eyes. She turned to the floor-length mirror next to her. The redhead held the blouse up to her body, wrapping it around her torso lightly, letting it lay against cool fabric of her bra. Covering her upper half gave her temporary reprieve from the morning fall air.  </p><p>After some deliberation with herself, Pamela had decided the top would do and slide it onto her arms, buttoned the front and tucked it loosely into her trousers. A well-cut, open, black blazer and her best pair of oxfords later, she was ready. Pam grabbed her leather messenger bag before moving to her desk to gather her print-outs – charts marking the growth of Robinson Park, foot traffic, data sheets showing statistics of homelessness in Gotham and the numbers of donated goods given to the local shelters that had come straight out of the community garden. She started filing them neatly into their correct folders, each marked with the names of various board members and one personally put together for Bruce Wayne.  </p><p>Bruce and Pamela went back, way back. Like, Gotham Prep School back. Back when she would kick his ass at debate, yet somehow, their teacher always graded his arguments higher than hers. She would blame the patriarchy angerly under her breath after every class, but in later years found that most everyone fell victim to Bruce’s charming smile and sharp blue eyes. It helped he was smart, too. Smart enough to see the world around him through a different lens than most of the elite in Gotham. Underneath all of those good looks and all of that charm, Pamela got to see a side of Bruce during their years in school together that left her confident that he was a genuinely good man. She watched him step in as upper-class assholes pushed around the kids who got in on scholarships. She witnessed him hold his hand out to people her family would shudder at the thought of, she saw the respect he held for the powerful women around him. The way he carried himself with ease, confidence, security – unlike most men in the industry.  </p><p>All of these combined factors were exactly why Pamela had felt like she had received a punch in the gut when Bruce took over his family’s varying conglomerates, and ultimately, became the youngest business magnate in Gotham. The decision had surprised Pamela – and most of their friends from school – Diana, Arthur, Kate – Hell, everyone! Pamela still saw that same kindness behind his eyes, a glint of something no one could quite put a finger on. It gave her hope for the future of Gotham.  </p><p>Pamela saw him almost daily on their shared college campus, but for some reason, she couldn’t work up the confidence to just go up to him and tell him to put a stop to the crushing weight of machinery taking over Gotham. She so desperately wanted to walk right up to him, poke a long finger into his chest and ask him what the hell he was thinking, letting negotiations for what little green land was left in Gotham go this far. For as badly as the thoughts were there, she couldn’t put them into action. At least, not until Harley. The younger women had barely known Pamela for a couple of months, but the conviction she spoke with on that couch in the coffee shop... The way she grabbed Pam’s hand, looked her in the eye with softness – like Pamela could hold the world. The entire exchange gave the woman the exact thing she needed. A surge of electricity to get her ass into gear and do what she knew was right. Only now, she’d have someone by her side.  </p><p>Pam neatly put her folders into her bag and threw it over her shoulder, giving herself one last glance in the mirror. Perfectly tailored pants, showing just enough of her lightly freckled chest to leave an air of <em> professionalism </em> . She cleaned up good and she knew it. She swept her hand through her silky long hair before checking her watch. ‘ <em> 8:11, enough time to grab Harley and head uptown </em> ’, Pamela thought to herself before feeling her body grow warm at the thought of  <em> grabbing  </em>Harley.  </p><p>As Pamela shuffled down the marble stairs of her home, the tingling in her lower stomach hadn’t stopped. She wasn’t sure what it was about Harley that turned her into such a mess. Maybe it was the innocence the woman exuded, maybe it was the fact that she was the exact opposite of who Pam had been surrounded by her entire life...maybe it was because every time she was alone with Harley, she couldn’t stop herself from getting drunk on the smell of sugar and sweet perfume, or the fact that she desperately wanted to trace tattoos that ran over her toned arms and legs, bring her fingers to creamy skin and put her lips on -   </p><p><em> Briiiinnnngggg~ </em> </p><p>The abrasive ringing of Pamela’s phone knocked her from her thoughts. She jumped slightly before grabbing her cell phone from her pocket - <em> “Harleen Q”. </em> </p><p>All the close contact situations Pamela had been envisioning came rushing back to her head and she suddenly felt lightheaded with embarrassment. Deciding it was better to just pretend she hadn’t been thinking of running her lips across a certain blonde’s skin, she opted to answer the call. </p><p>“Harley", she spoke, her voice coming out lower than intended, leaving an air of desire lingering in the emptiness of her home.  </p><p>A moment of silence greeted her on the other end of the phone, before a hitched breath greeted her ear, then a small giggle. </p><p>“<em> Pamela </em>”, Harley half-laughed into the receiver. “I was just callin’ to let ya know I’m ready whenever you are.”  </p><p>“I’m headed to you now, I’ll text you when I arrive out front”, she said it almost as if she was following strict instructions.  </p><p>“<em> Perfecto </em> ,” Pam could have  <em> sworn  </em>she felt Harley smiling through the phone as she spoke. “See ya soon, pretty girl.” </p><p>Pamela opened her mouth to say something, though she was unsure of what, in response, but quickly realized that Harley had already hung up. Pamela shut her eyes tightly, trying to erase <em> whatever  </em> that was from the forefront of her mind. She had a park to save, after all, no time for the distraction of her... wants.  <em> ‘How ridiculous’ </em>, she criticized herself as she walked purposefully through her empty home to the garage. Getting flustered by a compliment was really not Pamela’s style but she was starting to realize that Harley did that her. Made her feel things that she thought she had long forgotten how to.  </p><p>She reached the car tucked away in the garage, an impulse buy of her father’s before he left for Europe last year. He never drove it and truly did not care for the impact electric cars had on the environment. No, having that stark white Model 3 on his property was a symbol of status, wealth. An unnecessary purchase, for sure, but one Pamela had actually approved of. If you were going to spend exuberant amounts of money of a vehicle, it may as well be eco-friendly, right?  </p><p>Pam placed her bag in the back neatly and made her way into the driver’s side seat before inputting Harleen’s address into the GPS. Harley lived close to campus, a short drive to say the least. Pamela found herself reaching the address quicker than she had anticipated.  </p><p>She let her long legs lead her out of the car before taking her phone from her pocket and sliding her fingertips over the keyboard swiftly. Leaning against the car, she waited for a ding in response, but instead was greeted by a voice.  </p><p>“Heya, Red”, Pamela looked up from her feet to see Harley standing at the door of the apartment complex. Pamela’s jaw went slack, forgetting how to speak. Immediately she noticed that the blonde had straightened her tricolored hair and let it lay flat against her shoulders, something Pamela hadn’t seen since she met the girl. It was always up, pinned sloppily to her head or pulled into pigtails, never down and free flowing. Pamela immediately wanted to say <em> something  </em> but her tongue went dry when she moved her eyes down Harley and saw what she was wearing. A professional looking, white mock neck, long sleeved, top that she had tucked loosely into her skirt. A black, belted, high-waisted, curve-hugging skirt that hit just above her knees, hiding  <em> most  </em>of her tattoos. The look was completed with a velvety pair of buckled 4” heels.  </p><p>Pamela slumped against the side of her car, her mind working in overdrive. “<em> Hi </em>”, she finally spoke, her mouth still agape and her tongue drying out. </p><p>Harley tucked some of her blonde locks behind her ear sheepishly and moved towards Pamela, who stayed against the car, her knees would surely betray her if she tried to stand straight. Harley strode right up to Pamela, standing in front of her, their height almost completely matched with the shorter woman in heels.  </p><p>Pamela didn’t move her gaze from blue eyes as she felt a hand move to her waist, tracing small circles into her hip near the belt of her pants. The touch was welcomed, but unexpected.  <br/>“Harls”, as she spoke, Harley smiled at the new nickname, bringing her lip into her teeth and nibbling it. Pam was working hard to find the words she wanted to say, but was left with, “You look great.” </p><p>‘<em> Great ‘,  </em> she mocked herself internally. <em>  ‘More like fucking phenomenal’. </em> </p><p>Harley took a step back, removing her hand from Pamela’s waist. Pamela heard herself sigh from the lack of contact as Harley spoke. <br/>“Ya look pretty good yourself, Pam-a-lamb.” </p><p>Harley took another step back and Pamela found the strength to remove herself from the side of her car. She watched Harley’s blue eyes grow ten times their regular size and new she had the realization of what exactly Pamela had been leaning against.  <br/>“Is that a -” <br/>“It’s really not a big deal.” <br/>“- <em>fucking </em><em>TESLA</em><em>?!</em>” </p><p>Pamela moved to the passenger side of the car with a chuckle, opening the door for Harley, who politely made her way into the vehicle. Pam trotted over to the driver’s side and made her way back inside.  </p><p>“I cannot believe ya drive a fuckin’ <em> Tesla </em>”, Harley was poking at the various options on the touch screen pad on the dash.  </p><p>“Okay, it’s not <em> mine </em>, it’s my father’s” she spoke lightheartedly removing Harley’s hand from the screen. “And you know I don’t really drive.” </p><p>“Maybe! What other secrets ya hidin’ from me, Red?”, Harley leaned over as she spoke quietly, making Pamela increasingly aware of her presence.  </p><p>Pam turned to face Harley; their faces only separated by a few inches. She smirked, her red lips turning up at the corner of her mouth, she looked down at Harley’s pink lips before flicking her piercing green eyes back to the younger woman’s. She wanted to grab her by the back of the neck, bring her in and run her lips over Harley’s perfect mouth. A hard blush grew onto her face and she felt the warmth in her stomach move between her legs at the thought. <br/>“Wouldn’t you like to know.” </p><p>Pamela straightened back out, clearing her throat quietly. She watched as Harley smiled to herself out of her peripheral. She swore she saw the girl’s face turn pink before turning to look out the window. The ride was mostly quiet, sans Harley asking Pamela a few questions about their “plan of attack”. Before the pair realized, they were pulling into the headquarters for Wayne Enterprises. The Tesla didn’t look out of place in the large parking garage and Pamela noted that they didn’t look out of place either. Sure, <em> some  </em>of Harley’s tattoos were still visible and her pink and blue strands were in full effect, but the blonde looked commanding, an air of confidence that Pam hadn’t seen in her before.  </p><p> </p><p>They made their way to the front of the building, greeting the young man working security. Pamela leaned over his desk, offering a sweet smile and feeding him a line. Whatever she said worked. Harley watched him nod vigorously as he buzzed them in. Harley felt a twinge of jealously as she looked back at the man and saw him watch Pamela sway her hips on her way to the door. Instinctively, Harley reached out and put her hand on Pamela’s lower back, half-guiding her through the threshold.  </p><p>Pamela felt the touch of the woman next to her and her legs threatened to go limp on her again. She turned her eyes forward, trying her best to focus on the mission ahead.  <br/><em>‘Park, park, park, park’</em>, she chanted to herself. The two women found their way to the conference room, labeled as such on the door, blinds drawn closed. Harley looked at Pamela with a familiar gaze that she had come to know over the past few weeks. The look that lit a fire under Pam, gave her the confidence to even be standing in this building at the very moment. Harley gave her a smile, turning her lips up sweetly before reaching out and giving her hand a squeeze.  </p><p>Pamela offered a soft knock on the solid wood door. Not waiting on a response, she opened the door immediately, walking in as if she owned the building. Several men guffawed at the interruption; some cleared their throats awkwardly, not making eye contact with the two young women.  <br/>A man in a brown suit stood abruptly, clearing offended by their sudden appearance. </p><p>“What is the meaning of -”  <br/>A soft voice interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, “<em>Pamela Lillian Isley.</em> Is that you?” <br/>The man stood up from the head of the table, his appearance less buttoned down than the rest of the men surrounding them. Pamela looked over to see none other than -  <br/>“Bruce Wayne”, she said with a smile, closing the distance between them with two long steps. She reached out, offering her hand for a shake. The man took it before pulling her into a lax hug.  </p><p>Pamela glanced over to Harley as Bruce hugged her. She seemed amused but offered a confused shrug in the redhead’s direction. Bruce let go of Pamela before speaking, “Pamela, I am so glad you made it.” Bruce ran his fingers through his black hair and toyed with the rolled sleeves of his white dress shirt.  </p><p>“Wha-”, to say Pam was confused was an understatement. She searched for Harley’s eyes but found she was standing back, clearly out of her comfort zone.  </p><p>“I assume you’re here to discuss Robinson Park -”, the young business man started before glancing over to Harley. “Who is this?”, he gestured to the woman at the back of the room with a kind smile.  </p><p>“<em> Eep!”,  </em>Harley let out a small squeal as Bruce smiled in her direction. “Hi - yup! Hello! Name’s Harley!”, the redness on her pale face didn’t go unnoticed by Pamela who smiled at the awkward exchange despite the weirdness of the situation.  </p><p>“Good to meet you, Harley. I’m Bru-” <br/>“Bruce. Wayne. Bruce Wayne.” <br/>Bruce raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “Yes, that’s my name.” <br/>“Ya go ta Gotham University! I’ve seen ya ‘round here ‘n’ there, y’kno’”, Harley’s accent came out to play on her tongue as her thoughts trailed off. She moved her hands to the pockets of her skirt and her eyes to her feet. Pamela’s heart sped up. How was anyone allowed to be so cute? Her green eyes moved across the room and found the men around the table staring at Bruce for direction.  </p><p>His voice broke through the silence again.  <br/>“Please, ladies, have a seat”, he gestured to the table. Almost as if on command, men started shuffling around making space for the two women to sit together. Pamela walked back to Harley and guided her to the seat closest to Bruce, before taking the one next to her.  </p><p>“So, Pamela, show me what you’ve got”, he nodded to her bag. She grabbed the folders she had organized and started passing them around the table, giving Bruce his first. By the time the last man received his correctly marked folder, Bruce was already reading through the print-outs inside.  </p><p>“As you can see, I’ve gathered information on the community within Gotham and how the park benefits that community”, her voice shook with nervousness. She felt a soft hand make its way to her thigh, giving a loving squeeze as if saying ‘go on’. Pamela continued; Harley’s hand didn’t move.  <br/>“If you turn to sheet fifteen, you can see the data doesn’t lie, gentlemen. There is a huge section of this community that is benefiting from the growth of the community garden and the park itself.” </p><p>Bruce eagerly went through the data as Pam spoke, grabbing a pen from his front pocket and underlining points that seemed to resonate with him. The room talked amongst themselves in silent whispers as she spoke on. The entire ordeal felt painstakingly long, but all-in-all, ended quickly. Anytime Pam’s voice would waver, she would feel Harley’s grip on her thigh, grounding her, and allowing her to stay within the moment, not getting lost in her own head.  </p><p>Finally, after little to no deliberation, Bruce stood again, extending his hand to Pamela.  <br/>“Well, I think I’ve heard enough.” </p><p>Pamela stood from the table, reaching out to take Bruce’s hand, she offered a small shake in return. She held his hand limply as he grinned brightly.  <br/>“I’m not selling the park”, Pamela suddenly gripped his hand so hard he jerked back and laughed.  <br/>“What?”, spoke and a genuine smile danced across her lips.  <br/>Bruce turned to the table, signaling to the man in the brown suit.  <br/>“Berry, tell the state it’s done. I’m not selling. They’ll have to find somewhere else to put their road”, he turned back to Pam and Harley. “Wayne Enterprises is going to invest in Robinson Park. We’ll have to form a board for the project, but I think I know just the woman to lead it.” <br/>Harley clapped happily and jumped up to stand next to Pamela, leaning in and bumping their shoulders together.  <br/>“Ya did it, Pam”, she smiled against Pamela’s hair and she spoke.  </p><p>Bruce agreed to contact Pamela with details regarding the<em> new  </em>Robinson Park project if she’d agree to lead the board as president. A two hour long, monthly meeting was nothing if it meant the preservation of the land. Pamela shook Bruce’s hand several more times before Harley all but jumped into his arms in thanks. The pair gathered their data sheets and folders before turning to thank the room again as they left.  </p><p>As Pamela shut the door behind her, she could hear the eruption of men’s voices. She imaged they were pleading with him to rethink his sudden decision. She smiled to herself, hugging her bag and leaning against the thick door behind her. She clasped her eyes shut, allowing the final sensation of relief to wash over her. Her momentary bliss was cut short by a soft pair of hands meeting her waist again, this time holding both of her hips. Pam shot her eyes open, being greeted by Harley’s warm smile and kind eyes. Harley snaked her arms around Pamela’s waist, under the fabric of her blazer, pulling her into a tight embrace. She nestled her face into Pam’s neck and spoke quietly.  <br/>“Pamela, you were so amazing in there”, Pamela involuntarily froze at the sensation of Harley’s soft lips speaking against her, her hot breath playing against the goosebumps she left on her skin. Pam let her eyes shutter closed and wrapped her arms around Harley in return. As she did, the woman wiggled closer to her. Pamela felt the heat of Harley’s mouth move closer to her. It felt like she was gently running her lips over the nap of Pamela’s neck.  <br/>“Ya smell so good, Red”, as she spoke, there was no doubt in Pam’s mind that Harleen Quinzel was going to cause her to go mad, to unravel. Harley moved away, loosening her grip on Pamela’s back and sliding out from under her jacket, leaving Pamela feeling empty without their embrace and hot breath on her skin. “Let’s get outta here.” </p><p> </p><p>The elevator was quiet and Pamela was positive that Harley could hear her heart fluttering. The beating was so loud she was sure that Bruce could hear it floors above them. Fuck, he'd probably be sending men down to check on the banging noise any moment. Pamela made sure they successfully evaded the front desk on the way out, too red to mock flirt with any man at the moment.  </p><p>Walking to the parking garage proved to be just as quiet as the elevator. As they made their way into the darkness of the lots, Pamela felt Harley reach out. She wrapped her arm around Pamela’s, intertwining with her and moving in close. Pam moved her green eyes down to see Harley’s fingers lacing into her own, holding her hand tightly. The action was new but it felt like they had done it a million times over. Pamela held Harley’s hand even tighter as they approached the car, the knowledge that their contact would be over soon crept into Pamela’s mind.  </p><p>She walked Harley around to her side of the vehicle, meaning to open the door and let her in, as she did earlier. Before she could move to grab the handle on the door, Harley slinked her hand around Pamela’s lower back, mimicking the motion from earlier. This time when Pamela looked into Harley’s eyes she was met with a new look. Harley’s blue eyes wore a darker shade than the normal crystal that Pam had grown used to. Full of something Pamela didn’t recognize, but wanted to get to know – and get to know intimately. Harley moved her free hand to Pamela’s face. The taller woman parted her lips as if she were going to speak only to be stopped by the sensation of Harley’s fingertip grazing her lip. The girl’s pale hand had cupped Pamela’s cheek, running her thumb across her red bottom lip.  </p><p>Pamela gulped silently as Harley pressed their bodies together, closing any space between them. Pam felt Harley’s hand pull her as close as she could before running the hand on her cheek into red hair and around the back of her neck. Pamela flicked her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. The air around them felt thick and an ache grew inside of Pam. A familiar ache that she had wrestled with over the past few weeks. A fight with the respect she had for her friendship with Harley - the fight to not ruin a good thing. Harley fell into her life and from day one, Pam had been struggling with the need to pull the blonde into this exact position since that day in Hart's classroom. As her thoughts caught up with her, she found her body moving of its own accord. She reached up to hold the hand Harley had gently laid upon her neck. She held the younger woman’s fingers in her own and brought them to her mouth, gingerly placing feather light kisses on each of Harley’s fingers, lingering on her ring finger, a faded black heart under her cherry lips. She heard Harleen’s breath hitch loudly, before looking up to see her biting down on her own lip.  </p><p>Her lips laying lazily upon Harley’s pale skin, her eyes on a sea of blue. They bore into a forest of green, and Pamela was suddenly aware of exactly what looked back at her. She hadn’t misread any signals with Harley. No, she knew exactly what this was. The anticipation of Harley’s gentle touch in that crowded room, her shaking, lingering hands on her hips, glistening eyes electrifying her. It was too much to take in at once but somehow also not enough. She needed more.  </p><p>Before she knew exactly what she was doing, Pamela pulled the hand she was holding closer encouraging Harley to wrap her arm around her again. Pam brought her hand up to meet Harley’s face this time, hooking her index finger under her chin. With a light touch, she brought her face up to meet her own.  </p><p>She leaned down and listlessly ran her lips across Harley’s. Gentle and unhurried, Pamela dragged her soft bottom lip against Harleen’s for another moment, her senses overtaken by the taste of sweet, artificial watermelon – Pam recognized it immediately as the same scent of her bubblegum. She felt the hand on the back of her neck pull her in, forcing their lips together harder. Harley let out a small whimper. Pam took the noise as her cue to slide her tongue across the girl's bottom lip, asking for entrance, which Harley hastily allowed. Pamela slipped her tongue into Harley’s hot mouth, exploring her delicate tongue with her own, a slow but urgent endeavor.  </p><p>She tightened her hold on Harley, and without breaking their kiss, flipped their positions, pushing the smaller woman into the side door of the car. As Harley’s back hit the car, she opened her mouth wider, letting a muffled moan escape against Pamela’s tongue. As heat pooled between Pamela’s legs, she knew they were heading down a pit she might not be able to climb out of if they didn’t stop.  </p><p>Pamela pulled away, pulling Harley’s bottom lip tenderly before resting her forehead against the blonde’s. Their shared breath was ragged, the hold on Pamela’s neck stern.  </p><p>“Harls”, Pamela spoke with her eyes closed, not daring to look at the girl in front of her. She felt Harley shift under her, a tiny whine filling the silence. Pamela’s first instinct was to apologize. Should she? Was it too far, too much too fast? People were fickle beings.<br/>“Harley, I’m -”, she heard the car door click, indicating that Harley had started opening it. She turned to face the car, hand on the handle. She looked back to Pamela. “Let’s go."</p><p>She spoke with a stagger in her voice, but the statement made Pam aware of their location. She blinked rapidly. Alright, a crowded parking garage. Okay, so, perhaps not the most romantic place to kiss the girl who’s been driving you insane over the past few weeks. Pamela awkwardly stepped back, nodding slightly, understanding the hint Harley was giving her. </p><p>Pamela started moving to the driver’s side of the car, taking a deep breath before opening the door and climbing inside. Before starting the car, she turned to Harley, the words escaping her lips before she finished facing the girl.  <br/>“Harley, I’m sorr-” <br/>As she turned her words were cut off by Harley’s lips crashing against hers. Needier, hungrier than before. Harley broke the kiss to move her lips to Pam’s jaw, bringing her hands up to run her fingers through her hair. Pam stuttered as Harley’s swollen lips found her neck, “<em>H-Harls</em>”. She felt the grip on her hair tighten, eliciting a small moan from her lips.  </p><p>Harley finally spoke, “<em>Pammie </em> ”. Pam swallowed heavy air as the girl’s tongue made its way across the sensitive skin of her neck. “Pammie, you were <em>so  </em>amazing today.” The torrid breath against her neck broke as Harley spoke. She kissed back up Pamela’s jaw before finding the sensitive skin of her ear. Harley’s teeth pulled lightly on her earlobe, and Pam thought for a moment she might just come undone right there.  </p><p>“Oh,<em> baby </em>”, Pamela ran her hands up Harley’s side before pulling the woman over the center console and into her lap. Harley giggled happily against Pamela’s ear as she moved to straddle her. Soft hands ran up Harley’s thighs, pushing the end of her skirt up. She could finally see her tattoos again – Pamela almost forgot how much she liked those tattoos.  </p><p>“Baby, I couldn’t have done it without you”, Pam spoke quietly against the woman’s lips, placing softer kisses onto her this time. As Harley settled into Pam’s lap, the redhead blushed realizing how turned on she had gotten from their exchange of heated kisses. “Harls, you did good, too. Thank you.” </p><p>Almost instantaneously Harley let out a low moan and pushed her lips against Pam’s again. Pamela’s eyes widened as Harley deepened the kiss this time. When she finally pulled away, she left Pamela chasing her lips. Harley leaned into Pam, before speaking breathily into her ear. “Did I do good, <em>really?</em>”  </p><p>The sensuality in the statement did not go unnoticed by Pamela. It oozed off of the words as Harley spoke them. Suddenly, Pamela felt a beast growing inside of her, that familiar hunger she felt late at night, alone in her bed, her hand moving slowly between her legs when sleep alluded her, her thoughts drifting to milky skin and what soft legs might feel like wrapped around her shoulders.  </p><p>“You did<em> so  </em>good”, Pamela spoke experimentally into Harley’s wave of blonde hair. Pam gasped as she felt Harley shift to grind her center against her lap. Harley ran her lips across the corner of Pamela’s open mouth. The redhead’s thoughts went blank and her mind filled with static.   </p><p>“Harleen”, Pam closed her eyes and turned her face into the girl’s sweet blonde hair. Bubblegum, watermelon, home. Before Pamela could say anything else, Harley placed a gentle kiss into the tip of her nose before rubbing her own against the spot she had just placed her lips.  </p><p>“Come to Jon’s party with me”, Harley finally spoke. Pamela looked at the woman’s flushed face, lips swollen and red from kissing, panting lightly. In that moment, Pamela would have done anything the woman asked. She would pull the moon from the sky if she wanted it. <br/>“Please”, Harley added sweetly, batting her full eyelashes, drunk on older woman’s touch. </p><p>Pamela was <em>so  </em>fucked. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Nightmare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>party antics. angst. thirst.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry about the long wait!~ </p><p>i have been slightly distracted in my day to day. </p><p>enjoy jon's party playlist:</p><p>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/41b2OvQp8kDwd8LNKR4Nz1</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Birds had never sounded so happy outside of Harley’s window before. Chirping loudly, singing love songs to one another while dancing on wooden branches – stripped of their red leaves. The morning air chilled her naked legs, blankets strewn to the foot of her bed, baggy shirt raised above her stomach – tattoos kissing the breeze sneaking through the small crack of her window. </p><p>If those loud birds had been paying any attention to the small blonde, they would have seen her stretching wide, her arms above her head, palms on the headboard, her back arched off of the mattress. Maybe they would have seen a wide smile – maybe they would have witnessed her arm covering her face, her nose buried in the crook of her elbow, replaying the events of the previous night.  </p><p>A replay of her night with Pamela flashed through her mind as she lay on her bed, arm over her hot face. The memory of slow lips running over hers, the feeling of Pam’s velvety soft tongue enticing her to keep going with each soft stroke... Her warm mouth opening, gasping against her own when she climbed into her lap, louder moans spilling out of their lips when Harley couldn’t help but push herself into the redhead’s lap, begging for any type of relief from the desire she felt between her thighs.  </p><p>Harley slid off the mattress, letting her feet touch the ground with a little plop, soft skin making contact with the cold floorboards. She made her way to the bathroom, her toes curling over the white tile as she picked up her tooth brush, mint overtaking her senses and the memory of her moments with Pamela fading – the fluttering in her stomach stayed, however. </p><p>Pamela’s touch, even with hurried hands and a raspy voice shaking as she begged, “<em> Baby </em>” against her skin, left her feeling safe and warm against her. The feeling of soft hair against her face left her feeling teased, aching for more. Her mind wandering to a curtain of red hair falling over her skin as Pamela moved down her body with expert ease.  </p><p>Each moment with Pam cradled her, wrapped her up in warmth, washing away stains left on her skin by hands tainted by sin, red with fury – leaving red on her with every lingering touch. Coiling around her wrists like a snake, squeezing tighter and tighter until she couldn’t feel her fingers. So unlike Pamela’s hands.  </p><p>Touching Pamela, Pam touching her... It left her weightless, knees numb and chest tight. The woman’s hands, lightly calloused from digging in the dirt, laid on her softly, held her gingerly. There was no snake in Pamela’s garden waiting for her, waiting to wrap around her with fatal accuracy. No, with Pamela, Harley was left with hope that here, in her garden, there would be only safety and bliss. </p><p>Harley walked softly into the kitchen; her apartment sat still. The quiet only breaking for the creak of her floor under her feet, the rustling of her favorite sugary cereal being poured and the wind gently tapping on her windows.  </p><p> </p><p>She crunched down on a mixture of marshmallow, toasted oat and wonderfully pink milk. Silence was rare in Harley’s life. Her days often filled with rowdy friends, loud music and anything she could do to keep her from herself – her own thoughts.  </p><p>Harley hated being alone with herself. It always proved to be a sure-fire way to make herself feel like shit. The blonde looked down at her bowl, stirring sugar-milk with her silver spoon, watching marshmallow particles form small spirals.  </p><p>For a moment, Harley wondered if Pamela’s heart was as full as hers this morning. Pam had seemed nervous on the ride home, all of her swift movements in the car quickly pushed to the wayside, forgotten about as she nervously held Harley’s hand on her thigh. They had ridden home in silence, the beating of their hearts being the only conversation needed in the moment. When they approached the apartment, the redhead jumped out of the car, walked Harley to her door without a second thought with no promise of more to come. She simply shoved her hands deep into her pants pockets, leaned forward, and placed a chaste kiss – as light and as quick as possible – on her lips. A whisper of, “Text me?” as walked down the stoop towards her - <em> fucking -  </em>Tesla. A small nod, a smile – and then she was gone. </p><p>And that’s where Harley stayed, for what felt like hours. In her thoughts of Red, fingers on her waist and lips on her skin. Her thoughts stayed drunk on lavender for most of her day despite the fact that Jon’s “<em> super, fuckin’,  </em> <em> amazin </em> <em> ’,  </em> Halloween  <em> extravaganza”  </em>was fast approaching. The hours slipping away from the blonde as she pranced around her apartment, headphones in, music on a low hum. For once, enjoying the stillness that came with her day.  </p><hr/><p>Harley almost lurched forward into a sprint as she heard the rustling of leaves dancing behind her. The dark night threatening to swallow her up. Tussling with the pavement, the light cracking of brown and red reminding her of darkened evenings, looking behind her at every turn. Though, the memories didn’t last long, they were awakened enough to bring her arms around her cropped jersey, walking quicker – sneakers scrapping against the asphalt as she jogged her final steps to Jon’s doorstep. The wind tickling her exposed thighs. <br/><em>‘Maybe shorts weren’t the best idea, Harleen.’</em> </p><p>The music thumped loudly. The thudding bass of a familiar beat warmed her body up as she twisted the knob, not even bothering to knock. No one would hear her anyway.  </p><p><em> Thump, thump, thump </em>  – her insides vibrated as she slipped into the crowd –  <em> thump, thump, thump </em>  – some faces familiar, most new –  <em> thump, thump, thump </em>  – one foot in front of the other, wading through the small congregation of college kids gathered at the front of the small home, plastic cups in their hands – <em>  thump, thump, thump  </em>– </p><p>“Harley!”, a loud voice came to her from over the roaring speakers. “Harls!” </p><p>Harley turned on the heel of her tennis shoes, a squeak playing on the hardwood under her foot. There stood Eddie, a bottle of fruity green something or other in his right hand, his left waving franticly in Harley’s direction. He was the image of perfection. A red and white stripped sweater laying loosely over his torso, red pom-pom'd beanie snug on his head.  </p><p>Eddie took long, comical steps towards Harley, adjusting his fake black glasses as if he was trying to see out of them.  </p><p>“Waldo, baby! Where ya been? And...”, her words trailed off wrapping her fingers around the neck of the bottle Eddie was held. “What the <em> fuck  </em>is this disgustin’ shit?”, she laughed out, Eddie now laying his arms over Harley’s shoulders – his sweater bringing warmth to the exposed skin she proudly wore on display.  </p><p>“Well, my dear, this is -”, Eddie lifted the bottle to his lips, one arm still around the blonde, “- <em> mmf </em> <em> ! </em>  Is some sort of...pear? App –  <em> Oh </em> <em> ! </em> ”, another drink hit his lips, now leaning further down onto the girl. “Oh! Why is the Hulk  <em> so  </em>good at gardening?” </p><p>Harley brought her hand to the man’s slim chest, patting him lightly on his sternum.  <br/>“What, baby?”, the term of endearment had become her thing with the Eddie. Though, her head became dizzy thinking about the word passing through Pamela’s lips as tried to seek friction in the redhead’s lap.  </p><p>“He has a <em>green </em>thumb, Harley”, he scoffed. “<em>Obviously</em>...he’s the <em>Hulk</em>”, he held up his own thumb, wiggling it at Harleen clearly displeased with the way his line had landed.  <br/>“<em>Hmm</em>. Needs work, I think!”, he shouted as he bounced away from Harley, bottle of green giggle juice still in his hand.  </p><p>Harley watched his pom-pom topped hat bounce away, bright red peaking up and down throughout seas of people - giving the already tall man a good three inches on the rest of the crowd. She missed the warmth of his sweater around her skin.  </p><p>‘<em> Time to drink’ </em>, Harley shimmied to the music, loosening herself up.  </p><p>The idea of liquid heat sliding down her throat warmed her up as her feet brought her to the kitchen. She looked up and out of the kitchen window, at a small fire growing within the darkness of the backyard, several people seeking warmth against the harsh cold of the October evening. Harley smiled to herself. A feeling of nostalgia hit her. For what, she couldn’t tell anyone.  </p><p>“Come here often?”, the voice fell onto her ears as she sloppily poured orange juice on top of the tequila in her plastic cup. Harley swallowed hard, not needing to turn around to know who was standing inches behind her. She could almost feel warm breath on her neck under her high, blonde ponytail. </p><p>Harley thought about leaning back into Pamela, losing herself to the sweet sound of her voice. She thought about letting the taller woman wrap her long arms around her waist, pull her into her body. Thought about asking her to kiss her skin and warm her up.  </p><p>Instead, what Harley did, was pour a bit too much tequila into her cup before biting her bottom lip and bouncing around to face Pamela.  </p><p>Pamela Isley, always the professional, smiled wide, leaning down slightly, slim thumbs looped into the pockets of her black skinny jeans. Harley smiled at the sight of her, bringing her cup to her mouth, taking a smooth drink. The orange juice stung her tongue, the liquor burnt her stomach. Pam was a sight to behold, ‘-<em>  but isn’t she always. </em>’ </p><p>The woman’s red hair fell perfectly around her face, framing her flawless bone structure. Her signature leather jacket covered a tight-fitting black t-shirt – the pocket on the chest holding something that Harley couldn’t quite make out.  </p><p>“I’m loving the outfit, Quinzel”, Pam smiled before standing up straight, her height now on full display. Harley could feel the woman’s green eyes devouring her. She watched as they made their way from her own baby-blues to her arms...her stomach...her tattoos...her hips...her thighs -  </p><p>“What’s tha big idea, Pam?”, Harley smiled at the woman before poking her in the shoulder. The action causing Pamela to snap her eyes back to Harley’s. “I toldya it wasa <em> costume  </em>party”, she reached out and lightly tugged her leather sleeve, causing Pamela to take a step closer. Harley couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. </p><p>“I’m wearing my spooky outfit, what do you mean?”, Pamela rolled her eyes, shoving her fingers through her red hair.  </p><p>“Oh, yeah?”, Harley took a step closer, eliminating any distance between them. The words came out lower than she intended, “And what exactly makes it so <em> spooky </em>, babe?” </p><p>“It’s black.” <br/>“I like it.” <br/>“I’m glad...” </p><p>Silence. </p><p>“<em> Hmm... </em>”, Harley didn’t take her eyes from Pamela, her fingers still grasping her sleeve. The words left unsaid started filling the space around them. The blonde felt herself grasp her cup harder than before.  </p><p>“I mean, we can’t all pull of Lola fuckin’ Bunny, Harls”, Pam lifted the arm Harley held, indicating the smaller woman should spin around for her. She did, holding Pamela’s hand above her hand, smiling wide. “Seriously...”, Pam trailed off. </p><p>Her outfit was far from modest and she was well-aware of it. Was a tight, cropped basketball jersey and short-shorts weather appropriate? No. Was it worth watching Pamela’s mouth open as she watched her spin around? Absolutely.  </p><p>She playfully rubbed her legs together as she stopped spinning, her knee-high socks warming her skin. She wiggled her hips before a flirtatious giggle escaped her mouth, surely an effect of the tequila she’d been sipping during their interaction. At least, that’s what she told herself.  </p><p>“Now! <em> Drink! </em>”, Harley hopped back and held her arms wide at the table of alcohol behind her.  </p><p>“Fantastic Vanna White impression you got there”, Pam quirked her eyebrow at Harley.  </p><p>“I can also make a mean drink!”, Harley winked playfully before bobbing her head lightly, letting her ponytail sway. “So, how do you take it?”, she noted Pamela’s face as she spoke.  <br/><em>‘Later...’</em> </p><p>“Whiskey?” <br/>“<em>Disgusting</em>.” <br/>“Hey!” <br/>“I’m <em>kiddin</em><em>’</em>, Pammie!”, Harley reached for the cheap bottle of brown alcohol, bending over the table in the process. “Shots?” </p><p>She looked back to Pamela, who couldn’t seem to find a way to speak or close her mouth fully for some reason.  </p><p>“You okay?”, she spoke lightly as she grabbed the bottle and two small glasses. <br/>“Not much in the way of shorts at the Spirit Halloween <em>or...?</em>” </p><p>Harley twisted the cap off of the amber bottle, “Are you complainin’?” <br/>She laughed quietly, pouring two shots, “I’m sure Jon wouldn’t mind lendin’ me some sweats since I’m offending your <em>delicate </em>sensibilities”.  </p><p>Pamela found her voice, reaching out to take the glass from Harley’s fingers. Their skin grazed and Harley felt like she may have exploded right there.  </p><p>“I’m not complaining, baby.” <br/>There it was.  </p><p>Harley’s chest tightened as Pamela spoke. It shouldn’t have. They were just words. Unfortunately, for Harley, though, those words sent her reeling. She watched Pamela put the liquor to her lips and tilt her head back, drinking it down. Should the image of Pam’s neck have made heat pool in her lower stomach? Should the redhead gently wiping her thumb across her lower lip, cleaning it of whiskey left that heat moving between her legs? Harley wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t going to ask for it to stop, either.  </p><p>“Again?”, shook out of her mouth as she slammed the shot glass down on the table.  <br/>“Please”, Pam spoke kindly, not missing the shake of Harley’s voice.  <br/>In that moment, Harley was happy to oblige.  </p><hr/><p>Three shots later and the party was kickin’ off in a big way. People were starting to roll in, larger groups now, no doubt catching wind of the party further on campus.  </p><p>Harley woulda slapped herself silly a year ago if someone woulda told her she’d be at a party with a wicked hot girl... spending most of the night leaning against the kitchen counter, listening to a gorgeous, <em> tipsy </em> , woman talk about plants...  <em> and not  </em>making a move on her.  </p><p>That’s how it went, though. Harley let herself feel warm in the presence of Pam. Whether it was due to the combination of tequila and whiskey settling in her body was up for debate, however. She leaned in as she spoke, watching her hands move sporadically as she told her of different species and hybrids, what she wanted out of her major.  </p><p>Harley had decided that Pamela’s hands were probably one of her best features. Sure, all of Pamela was <em> ungodly </em> , but her  <em> fuckin’  </em> hands... Her hands were soft, but so stern in their touches and gestures. Her fingers were long, slender. Her knuckles were prominent and beautifully freckled with small dots. Every single time Harley watched her fingers move around her cup, to her hair, to her lips – which she touched a <em>  god-awful </em> amount – she wanted to grab her, tell her to put those fingers around her ponytail, pull her hair – </p><p>“Pamela Isley, you sly cat!”, the words broke Harley out of her trance. She blinked rapidly, bringing herself back to reality quickly enough to see Pamela, still slightly drunk, sling her arms wide open and hop off of the counter where she had been sitting. </p><p>“Selina?!” </p><p>Harley looked up to see a short, slim woman waving her fingers one-by-one at Pamela. She had a perfect hourglass shape and the perfect pair of faux-leather pants to match.  </p><p>Pam moved towards the woman, tucking her into a firm hug. Harley watched the redhead slip her arms around the woman’s black top and lay her face against her short black hair, moving her fuzzy cat ears in the process.  </p><p>Harley’s face grew hot and her stomach dropped in jealousy.  </p><p>The shorter woman pulled herself out of Pamela’s embrace, keeping her hand languidly on her hip bone, under her leather jacket. Harley’s cheeks grew red. What she wanted was to march over to the short-haired woman, pull Pam into herself and crash her lips against hers. Mark her territory.  </p><p>That was it though, and Harley was realizing it quickly – Pamela wasn’t hers. For all intents and purposes, Pamela wasn’t truly <em> anyone's </em> - but, oh, God, how she wanted Pam to be hers tonight.  </p><p>With new vigor in her gut, Harley pushed off of the counter, bouncing over to Pam and her <em> new  </em>friend. Her eyes narrowed, as she came closer to the pair of women, hearing Pamela laugh something ending in “kitty”. </p><p>“<em> Oh </em> , Pamela – who is your little plaything?”, the words slid off of the woman’s tongue like honey. The woman looked down Harley’s body, from her knee-high socks to her blonde hair. Harley couldn’t help but smile at the statement. Maybe she liked the idea of being Pamela’s  <em> plaything  </em>more than she thought.  </p><p>Harley watched Pamela flush, the whiskey in her blood making her skin glow with something more than just embarrassment.  </p><p>“Selina, this is Harley -”, before she could finish the sentence, Harley had already shoved her hand out towards the woman. She smiled slyly, finally removing her fingers from Pam’s side and grasping Harley’s hand.  </p><p>Selina’s touch was different from Pam’s. Her hand wrapped firmly around Harley’s, pulling her in slightly. Harley involuntarily opened her mouth, letting out a small gasp.  </p><p>“Oh! I like her”, Selina growled. Harley felt her face growing hotter. Before Harley could calculate her next move, a tall man appeared behind Selina in the doorway. Black hair, blue eyes – <em> wait </em>. </p><p>“<em> BRUCE WAYNE? </em>”, Harley immediately let go of Selina’s hand and jumped to Bruce, wrapping him up in a playful hug – clearly the tequila was doing its job.  </p><p>“You two know each other?”, now it was Selina’s chance to play jealous.  </p><p>Pamela let out a low cackle at the interaction. <br/>“This is fucking crazy”, the redhead laughed and pushed her fingers into her hair again. “What the fuck! Why are you guys here?” </p><p>“Oh, <em>darling</em>”, Selina hissed out. “You know I wouldn’t miss a good party.”  <br/>She wedged herself in between Bruce and Harley, smiling at the blonde as she moved past her.  <br/>“So, how do you know the blonde, Bruce?”, she ran her nails over his chest as she spoke.  </p><p>Bruce smiled widely, exposing his fake fangs – the image took Harley aback, causing her to tilt her head like a confused puppy. Bruce laughed, at her reaction. His fangs flopping in his mouth slightly.  <br/>“I’m a bat.... man”, he looked over at Harley and Pamela, reading their reactions.  <br/>“<em>Thing.</em>” <br/>He didn’t seem too sure of the entire situation, as he adjusted his black hoodie, clearing his throat.  </p><p>“He wouldn’t commit to Dracula”, Selina finally said.  </p><p>Pamela finally broke through the tension -  </p><p>“Harley and I just crashed Bruce’s super secretive board meeting -” <br/>“- and you kicked ass doing it!”, the man interrupted, causing Harley to beam.  <br/>She grinned out, “Yeah, she did!” </p><p>“<em> Gross </em>”, Selina muttered under her breath before Pamela quickly smacked her on the shoulder and giving her a stern look.  </p><p>“Anyway”, Pamela started, walking over the table again, drumming her index finger over several bottles of alcohol, her short nail <em> clinking  </em>against the glass. “Harley helped me prepare for the meeting – helped me make a move to save that fucking park.” </p><p>Pamela glanced over to Harley before she picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels, wrapping her fingers firmly around its neck. Harley felt her lips part, the words almost escaping her mouth – what those words would have been, she wasn’t sure of. Pamela’s green eyes didn’t leave her as she lifted the bottle straight to her mouth and took a drink.  </p><p>The woman lowered the bottle to her hip, tapping it against her thigh lightly. A small “hmm” fell out of her throat and Harley thought, in that moment, she might just die. She had to get away from this. Get away from Pam’s gaze, seeping with whiskey. Every time their eyes met Harley found her mind wondering </p><p>“Pam”, Harley reached out to the woman. Pamela let Harley take her fingers in her own, guiding her towards the door of the kitchen. “I want to introduce you to Jon!” </p><p>Selina visibly rolled her eyes at the action before looking up to the man with her. She leaned into him, resting her head on his chest – her cat ears sliding off-center.  </p><p>“Were they like that when you saw them?”, her voice now muffled. <br/>“You mean eye-fucking?”, a groan from Selina put a smile on his face.  <br/>“<em>Yes</em>.” <br/>“Oh, yeah.” </p><hr/><p>Pamela let Harley lead her through the house, one loop, then another. Harley bounced on her toes, peeking for her friend in a wave of drunks. Harley instinctively held Pamela’s hand, eventually lacing their fingers together in an attempt to keep them connected while meandering about.  </p><p>“So, your kitty friend sure is friendly”, Harley finally spoke, resigning to the fact that Jon was lost in the night. Harley felt her grip on Pam’s hand tighten at the memory of Selina’s hand on her waist.  </p><p>“Selina?”, Pam scoffed, “<em> Friendly </em>.” </p><p>Harley heard the playfulness in the statement, no matter what the woman spoke.  </p><p>“How’d ya meet?”, Harley shifted her gaze to the party goers, avoiding Pamela’s eyes at all costs. A witch, a sexy witch, a clown, another clown, a <em> sexy  </em>clown – Hey, Pennywise was hot this year, whatcha gonna do about it, y’know?  </p><p>“School. Well, sort of”, Pam released Harley’s hand, bringing it to her face to push her hair behind her ear. “She hung out outside of the school mostly... selling <em> things </em>.” </p><p>Pamela quirked her eyebrow at Harley’s confused face.  <br/>“Things that may or may have not been – <em>allegedly </em>– stolen. Nothing was ever proven”, she laughed at the end of her statement. “Bruce kind of picked her up – not that she needed anyone's help to get up.” </p><p>Harley decided to leave well enough alone. Whatever hidden skeletons lie in Selina’s closet could stay buried there. Harley knew what it was like to bury those skeletons, those ghosts. Their removal from their hiding spots were Selina’s to choose.  </p><p>If Harley could have decided to keep her secrets to herself forever, she probably would have – but life has a funny way of stepping up to the plate and just smackin’ ya over the head with a baseball bat. That’s what meeting Pamela was like. A smack to the head with a baseball bat.  </p><p>Maybe it was the liquor coming up in her thoughts, but there was something about that woman that made her want to spill her guts, tell her everything and nothing all at once. Just exist in her presence, sharing the most intimate moments of her life.  </p><p>The world isn’t always kind, though. That’s something Harley had known for a long time, learned fast and hard. While the idea of pulling Pamela into her arms, into a dark room, into <em> her </em>, clouded her vision; she knew that the world wasn’t all dark rooms and sweet embraces. The world was dark secrets and bitter words. At least the world Harley had known.  </p><hr/><p>The fire raged on outside, bodies seeking warmth occasionally around it before making their ways back inside to the home. Harley watched as strangers moved in and out of Jon’s house, occasionally looked for their mysterious host. Eddie had been more visible, if anything, because of his bright red beanie and obnoxious slushing of green juice. Harley’s need to dance grew as the tequila shots hit her one by one.  </p><p>Harley reached up, adjusting her ponytail. Warmth overflowed from her belly as her jersey hugged her ribs. She felt green eyes bore into her – whiskey on red lips. Tension had a funny way of building a few drinks in, words left unsaid, actions left to the imagination. </p><p>Blue eyes searched for the crowd for a good match, a body to pull close, to dance with – before landing on Selina, standing in a large group with Bruce and his regular group of friends from the university. As quickly as Harley’s eyes had landed on one of the women in the group, she was already making strides across the room to meet her.  </p><p>Black hair fell perfectly curled around the woman’s toned shoulders, her white tunic hugging her waist, belted tightly – a realistic plastic sword tucked neatly away in the gold band.  </p><p>Diana Prince was a fresh-faced angel standing next to Bruce Wayne. Star soccer player and cross-country cup winner; Diana was more than a pretty face and everyone knew it.  </p><p>Harley moved herself in-between a tall, tattooed muscular man in a <em> wonderful  </em>pirate outfit that Harley definitely wanted to compliment later. She took mental notes: </p><p>‘<em> Tell muscle boy he’s pretty – good outfit’ </em> </p><p>Diana tilted her head at the small, blonde girl in front of her.  </p><p>Harley’s list of notes continued: </p><p><em> ‘I like redheads more I think -’ </em> </p><p>“Hi?” </p><p>“Heya! Ya look like ya could use a dance”, Harley held out her hand with a playful wink. Whether it was her natural charm or pity, Diana took her hand and allowed the girl to pull her into the middle of the room. Harley’s eyes met Pamela’s.  </p><p>Pamela smirked at the blonde, watching her ponytail bounce as started dragging the tall brunette around. She lifted the bottle to her lips again, leaning against the bar separating the kitchen and living room. She watched Diana shrug to Bruce and Selina, offering a sweet smile.  </p><p>The music shifted tone as Harley brought her arms around Diana’s shoulders and swayed her hips to the beat. Pam leaned further back into the counter behind her. A blush grew over Diana’s face and Pamela couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.  </p><p>It appeared that Harley had no idea just how enticing she could be to even the most strait-laced of company. The exchange went on – Harley playfully dancing against Diana, a smile on her lips and Diana awkwardly smiling back, occasionally letting her arms relax and loop around Harley.  </p><p>Pamela’s eyes didn’t leave Harley’s body, watching her move against the deep bass penetrating the air around them. Her lip found its way in-between her teeth as Harley’s shorts hit all the right places.  </p><p>She heard Harley giggle out and thank Diana for the dance, but her mind grew fuzzy – images of creamy legs wrapped in knee-high socks and shorts that didn’t cover nearly enough – Harley's voice came closer, threatening to pull Pam out of her whiskey dipped daydreams.  </p><p>The music thumped loudly, shifting songs yet again – this time deeper and somehow dripping with, what Pamela could only explain as, sexual tension. She closed her eyes against the bass and leaned her head back towards the ceiling, red hair flowing against the wooden countertop.  </p><p>Mossy eyes shot open as fingers slinked over her right shoulder. Pam tilted her head down to see Harley looking up at her. Soft, warm and unforgiving in the way she assaulted her senses. She breathed her in and smelled only watermelon and sugar. She closed her eyes against Harley’s touch and felt only hunger. </p><p> </p><p>Harley’s body moved on its own. Her hand slipped over the leather of Pamela’s jacket and under red locks, before holding onto the back of her neck.  </p><p>Sure, Harley noticed Pamela’s eyes hooding over, she saw her bright green eyes glass over with something dark and hungry, but it didn’t stop her from pulling herself up to the woman against the counter. It didn’t prevent her from wrapping her one arm around her waist and the other keeping a hold of the back of Pam’s neck. No, if anything, the desperate need in Pamela’s eyes only encouraged Harley.  </p><p>She moved with the music, placing her body between Pamela’s legs. Slow at first, but unrelenting in her need to touch the woman in front of her. Harley shimmied against the woman’s thighs, dipping down to the beat of the song blasting through the speakers. </p><p>Pamela reached out to touch Harley, placing her hands on her waist and turning her around in one swift motion. Harley audibly gasped at the action, but understood exactly what she was asking. She didn’t feel the redhead’s hands move from her hips as she moved her ass against her, grinding against Pam in time with the music. Instead, she felt long fingers run against her exposed skin, dancing just above the waistband of her shorts.  </p><p>Harley reached behind her, leaning her body weight into Pamela - who stayed leaning against the bar, unwavering. She ran her fingers into her thick red hair as she moved against the woman’s hips, the action pulling a small whimper from Pam. The noise caused Harley to turn to meet her face to face. She wanted more of that noise. Fuck, she wanted all of Pamela’s whimpers and moans.  </p><p>Her arms still around Pam’s neck, Harley brought them impossibly close. She could smell the whiskey on her breath, somehow mixing perfectly well with lavender. Harley was sure she had never been so wet in her entire life. Even more so, she was certain she had never been so turned on by the smell of liquor or the feeling of a thick bass vibrating her insides.  </p><p>She felt Pamela’s hips finally push back, bucking against her own. Her mouth shot open; a shudder ran down her back.  </p><p>“<em> Baby </em>”, Pamela spoke against Harley’s neck.  </p><p>There it was again. That name, that voice, that <em> want </em>. The want to dig her nails into Pamela’s shoulders, beg her for more.  </p><p>Pamela’s voice lowered, almost animalistic in desire, “Let me take you ho-” </p><p>“HARLEEN <em> QUINZEL </em>”, a booming voice came into the room.  </p><p>Harley’s mouth shut, a groan coming out of her throat. She pried herself off of Pamela. The redhead stayed leaning against the counter, reaching back for her bottle, panting slightly and red faced.  </p><p><em> ‘Jonathan Crane you insufferable li’l fuckin’ cock-block’ </em> </p><p>Harley turned around, to face the voice but was instead greeted by a scarecrow.  </p><p>“Seriously?”, she laughed.  </p><p>“What you don’t think it’s spooky?” </p><p>He gestured to the outfit, full of burlap and fake chains. Rattling them slightly with a small “<em> ooo </em>” escaping his mouth.  </p><p>“Oh, yeah. Very spooky”, Harley reached out, taking the bottle of Jack Daniels from Pamela’s hands.  </p><p>“I’m so glad you came, Harley!”, Jon was undoubtedly the right amount of high to have not noticed the weird tensity in the room. Or between Harley and Pamela. She could smell the nights especially <em> leafy  </em>activities all over him as he pulled her into an embrace.  </p><p>“You smell like California circa 2016”, she joked as she pushed him away playfully. “How much have you been smo-”, she caught Pamela’s confused expression in her peripheral.  </p><p>“Oh my god! Pam! This is Jon!”, she grabbed for Pamela’s hand and pulled her away from her comfortable leaning position. “’Cept normally he ain’t scary straw man.” </p><p>Jon shifted his head to Pamela, then back to Harley... then back to Pamela.  </p><p>“Oh my <em> fucking  </em> god”, Jon laughed under his mask. “ <em> You’re  </em> Red.  <em> Damn </em>, alright, Harley. I get it-” </p><p>“-<em> Okay! </em> Enough of that! Jonny, babe, we are gonna be outside! Thanks again for the amazin’ party, wow. Great stuff.” </p><p>Harley attempted to hide her embarrassment from Pamela as she marched back towards the kitchen. She pushed the back door open with ease, holding it for Pam.  </p><p>“Red, huh?”, Pamela laughed. Harley looked up to see a sweet smile laying against her lips.  </p><p>“Yeah, Red”, Harley wrapped her arms around herself as she moved towards the fire.  </p><p>The pair leaned into each other slightly, bumping shoulders. Harley knew she was shaking a little, but the heat from their previous exchange was still warming her up. Not that it mattered, because, as if on cue, Harley felt Pamela shift under her touch, moving away from her.  </p><p>As she was about to protest the sudden movement, Pamela slipped her jacket off of her arms and held it up to Harley, arms out.  </p><p>The gesture was small, but Harley felt her heart swell. She simply nodded and slipped her arms into the lined leather coat. Pamela was a toned woman, fit even – tall. Her jacket seemed to swallow up the petite blonde just enough to offer comfort.  </p><p>There was no pressure to speak. No words that needed to be said in the moment. Instead, the pair just sat in silence, as if they had many times over. Whatever their relationship was becoming, it was something that Harley wasn’t familiar with in the slightest. A feeling of comfort was already present in their exchanges – a magnet drew her to Pamela and she couldn’t help but follow that pull.  </p><p>The fire crackled in front of them, small sparks illuminating the trees and dry leaves surrounding them. Harley felt the events of the night settle around her, encompassing her like the warmth of a new love’s jacket, dripping in sweet flowers. She leaned her head onto Pamela’s shoulder – she felt the woman’s hair tickle her exposed skin as she rested her head against hers. The exchange was so gentle, so small, it felt like Harley’s heart might give out at the mere idea of Pamela’s lips grazing hers.  </p><p>Harley titled her head up, her breathing stalling, chest tight. As if reading her mind, Pamela leaned down, stopping short of her lips. Choosing instead to simply move her nose against Harley’s, imitating Harley’s action from the <em> car incident </em>. A small kiss of their noses and nothing more. If Harley hadn’t have known any better in the moment, she would have sworn she made it up.  </p><p>“P-Pammie -”, she stuttered out.  <br/><br/>“It’s okay, Harleen”, Pamela smiled, bringing their foreheads together. “Nothing has to happen.” </p><p>“No! I want - It’s not - <em> fuck </em>”, Harley swallowed, her sentence sputtering out.  </p><p>Pamela didn’t move from her position against Harley. She simply brought her closer, wrapping her arm tighter around her.  </p><p>Harley gathered herself, trying to calculate her next move.  </p><p>“Pamela...” </p><p><em>‘I swear to God, Harleen</em>’ </p><p>“I -” </p><p>‘<em>It’s way too early for this, Harley’</em> </p><p>“I think I’m -” </p><p>Harley closed her eyes as she spoke, “I think I'm fallin’ for you, Pamela.” </p><p>She opened her eyes to see Pamela looking at her. Green eyes so soft it felt like a knife in Harley’s heart.  </p><p>“But... Pam, I have some... <em>ghosts</em>.” </p><p>“Don’t we all?” </p><p>“No, Pam – it's differ -” </p><p>“How’d we know we’d find you gays out here”, Selina’s voice snuck up behind the girls. “Something about a fire just really brings out the queers.” </p><p>Pamela snorted, “That’s why you’re here, right?” </p><p>Selina offered a sly wink, “You know me so well, darling.” </p><p>Bruce lightly jogged up behind Selina, a goofy smile on his face, a lipstick smear on his neck. Harley sighed from relief or shame, but couldn’t be sure which. She had almost said something she couldn’t take back. She almost told someone she barely knew that not only was she falling for her unreasonably fast, but that she had some real <em> shit  </em>to deal with, too. Harley knew she wouldn’t be able to reel the words back once they crossed her lips. Once Pamela knew about Jay... well, that’d be as far as it goes. Who could forgive that? All that hurt and hate.  </p><p>“So, now that I'm nice and whiskey drunk, Bruce”, Pamela grinned widely, leaning forward and tapping Bruce’s chest. “Why did you allow me to crash your little meeting? Fuck – why did you agree to help the park at all?” </p><p>The man laughed deeply, “Shit, Pam, you’re not pulling any punches at all, are you?” </p><p>He slinked his arm around Selina as he spoke, “Truthfully, Pamela, I had been noticing the same things you cited at the meeting. A lot of growth, a good community.”  </p><p>Pam nodded.  </p><p>“The team advised me against stopping the GG project. Said that there was no demand from the community for the park”, he sighed at the thought. An obvious lie to line their own pockets. “So, yeah, I was hoping you’d show up. I respect the hell out of you, Pam – I knew you’d do what you felt was right.” </p><p> </p><p><em> ~ </em> <em> craaash </em> <em> ,  </em> <em> crackkk </em> – the sound of broken glass on asphalt echoed through the night. </p><p>Pamela shot up, standing suddenly. Harley watched her and Bruce share a look and without another beat -  </p><p>“Stay here”, Pamela spoke sternly. It wasn’t a question.  </p><p>Too bad for Pamela, Harley never listened to much of anyone.  </p><p>Before Harley could protest, Bruce and Pamela and rounded the corner of the house. Selina helped Harley to her feet before leading her to the front of the house with her.  </p><p>There was something in the moment, cold, dark and alone with a stranger, that brought Harley back to a few months ago. How many times would she have to see those nights in her head over and over again? How long would it take before she was numb to the idea of hurt – until it would stop hurting? </p><p>As Selina held onto to Harley’s hand she listened to the cold air. The music had stopped. There was no more laughter, just the crunching of glass under shoes. Harley didn’t like this one bit. It was all too familiar and horrible.  </p><p>She let go of Selina moving to the front of the house, baggy black leather jacket still around her shoulders.  </p><p>Even in the dark, the image was clear. Venom.  </p><p>Venom in his eyes, his teeth, his hair. Dripping from every facet of his being.  </p><p><em> ‘No </em>.’ </p><p>Harley moved forward, slow steps allowing the cold grass to crunch under her feet. Selina’s distant voice moving further way.  </p><p>Pamela raises her hand, indicating the man should stop moving. She looks to Bruce, who moves closer, bringing his arms up to cross his chest.  </p><p>The words come so easy to Pam – she doesn’t know who he is. What he’s capable of.  </p><p>“Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you are – but you are obviously not welcome here. It’s time to leave.” </p><p>A cackle erupts from the man’s twisted mouth. Harley notices two men moving forward, a glint of metal shining in one of their hands. It’s a nightmare. The man behind Jay moves forward, his hand wrapping around the knife in his hand.  </p><p>Before she knows what she’s doing, Harley is running. Running to the front of the house, to Pamela -  </p><p>“Red. Don’t.” </p><p>Pamela turns towards Harley – this is it. The way it all comes crashing down.  </p><p>Jay’s voice spits out, “Seems you have something that belongs to me, <em> Red </em>.” </p><p>“Do not call me <em> that </em>.” </p><p>His mouth twisted into a wicked grin, he’s hit a nerve, he loves it.  </p><p>“Ah, Harley-girl", poison eyes shot to Pamela. Her face unmoving, if there was any fear in her, she wasn’t showing it.  </p><p>Harley moved forward, standing next to Pamela. Unconsciously she reached down, grabbing Pam’s hand tightly. She felt herself squeeze.  </p><p>“Jay... what are you -“ </p><p>“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you? Did you think you could <em> steal </em>  from me and just...  <em> run </em> ?!”, he cackled again. “And hiding behind some  <em> woman </em>. What’s become of you?” </p><p>Harley felt her stomach turn, tears welling up in her blue eyes. A nightmare. It was always going to be a nightmare.  </p><p>“Come home, Harley. Your puddin’ will take good care of you. All can be forgiven-” </p><p>“She doesn’t belong to anyone”, Pam finally spoke. Her hand now tightening around Harley’s.  </p><p>She took a step forward, moving Harley behind her.  </p><p>“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but Harley-”, Pam took another step. Harley felt her stomach drop. The man behind Jay smiling as he flashed silver in his hand. She felt the tears come, the break down was imminent. “Harley isn’t going anywhere, at least not with you.” </p><p>Spider-like fingers reached out to grab Pamela’s shoulder, attempting to push her aside. Attempting to move towards Harley. Pam reached up, grabbing his wrist. Hard. The pain was clear on his face, snarling and showing his twisted teeth. </p><p>“If you take one more step-” </p><p>Unlucky for Jay, he did. Pamela wasted to time grabbing the collar of his dark purple shirt, the men moving forward. Harley watched Jay hold up his hand, two fingers up – a clear sign to stand down. Pamela released his collar, letting him stumble.  </p><p>“Listen, <em> Red </em>, if you move now – we can pretend that you didn’t do that.” </p><p>Jay tried again, taking a long step forward, his eyes fixed on the blonde behind Pamela. It all happened so fast, Harley almost didn’t register that Pamela’s fist had made contact with Jay’s jaw. </p><p>Jay staggered backwards, his scuffed shoes sliding across the broken glass – Jon’s window a causality of Jay’s anger and need for attention. Jay hits the ground, one knee on the glass, his hand moving into his jacket pocket.  </p><p>Harley sees red as he lunges forward, the shine of his own knife, tucked safely in his pocket, moving under the street lights. The man tackles Pamela to the ground, smiling the entire time, a laugh trying to escape his lips.  </p><p>Pamela’s eyes shot down to his hand, making out the shape of the object he’s fiddling for.  </p><p>Her fingers wrapped around the fabric laying across his shoulders – a jacket too large for him, flipping him onto the asphalt under them, her knees scrapping against the glass.  </p><p>Another punch right to his face, a splatter of blood followed by the shine of blue and red lights.  </p><p>Harley hears him laugh, blood on his teeth and tongue.  </p><p>“Oops!”, his laugh is evil.  </p><p> <br/>Harley ran to Pamela, attempting to grab her, “We have to go, Pam!” </p><p>Pam’s fist is still about his face, her eyes fixed on his smiling face. She doesn’t move, just stays right on top of him, straddling his stomach, holding the collar of his shirt in her other hand. His eyes are black, his smile made of poison – hands that only hurt.  </p><p>Pamela can’t remove her eyes from his bloody face, she knows her fist is growing bruises and crusting with blood.  </p><p>Harley tries again, “Red, <em> babe </em>, please.”  </p><p>Before Harley can grab Pamela again, the police are already in the front yard, on the patio of Jon’s house.  </p><p>Jay’s laughter died as two men in uniform walked up on the scene – suddenly writhing under Pamela, holding his face.  </p><p>“She assaulted me! Arrest her”, his voice muffled in his hands.  </p><p>All Harley can do was watch an officer pull Pamela off of her knees, off of Jay, leading her to their car.  </p><p>This is it. This is how it all comes crashing down.  </p><p>Harley pranced after Pamela and the officers, but not before looking back to Jay, laying on the ground, blood in his teeth. He rolled onto his side, grinning at Harley as she looked back to him. </p><p> </p><p>Somehow Harley ended the night in the backseat of Selina Kyle’s car, Bruce Wayne in the front seat, road tripping to the local precinct.  </p><p>That’s just where she found Pamela. Locked in a concrete box, leaning against a wall, metal bars between them – the knees of her jeans dirty, one threatening to rip. Her hair wild, the knuckles on her right hand bruised and coated in dried blood.  </p><p>And that’s where Harley stood.  </p><p>In front of the woman locked away in that concrete box, her heart skipping beats at the sight.  <br/> </p><p>
  <em>'Maybe it’s not a nightmare anymore.'</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Forgiving the Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pamela goes to jail, Harley breaks her out... kind of.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter is rated E </p><p>it's like 4k of smut</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As her skin grazed the metal bars of the cell, Pamela realized she missed her warm leather jacket on her arms. It had all happened so fast – the chilly night air, the fire, the crunching of glass under her feet, the warmth of fresh blood on her fist... </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t sure why the crooked, twisted man had come into her life – green tinted hair greasy with sweat and sharp teeth exposing some sort of sick punchline – but she was sure he wouldn’t so much as put his eyes on Harley again if she could prevent it. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela’s mind was in overdrive, spinning with whiskey and thoughts of a thick bass dripping around her. She looked down to see her hand, slightly bruised and crusted over with blood. Some of it hers, most of </span>
  <span>it</span>
  <span> Jay’s. She watched her hand tremble as she held her wrist with her other hand. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In the fourth grade, Pamela had hit a boy on the playground. The little son of a bitch had gone through the school’s garden – which all of the children had worked especially hard on – and ripped up several strawberry plants. The memory tasted like the salty tears that ran down her face that day as her father drug her away from the school, his hand wrapped around her arm a little too hard. Pamela had only hit one person throughout the entirety of her 23 years on this planet. Until tonight.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam stretched her fingers, allowing her knuckles to release a small </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the fresh bruises playing lightly against her straining tendons. She wasn’t sure where the decision to put her knuckles against Jay’s face entered her brain. Surely somewhere between her 5</span>
  <span>th</span>
  <span> shot of Jack Daniels and her jacket around Harley’s shoulders.  Not that it mattered, she would have done it again and again. The look of abject horror on Harley’s face when a she uttered out a low “no” was enough. The shake in her voice told her everything she’d ever need to know about the man standing there – Jay. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The man was not anyone Pamela would ever want to know. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghost </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Harley was running from and any ghosts of Harley’s was soon about to learn a lesson in letting go. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela found comfort against the concrete wall the texture brining comfort to her exposed skin. Her green eyes fluttered close, the adrenaline of the night finally wearing off and leaving her with the realization that she was locked in a holding cell alone in the middle of the night. A consequence of her actions, yes – but it was worth it just to see the look on Harley’s face as she walked through the precinct doors and made eye contact with Pamela.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde stepped into the room, eyes searching for familiarity. She found it in Pamela’s soft smirk. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley walked up to the bars of the small cell, smiling sweetly all the while. Pam watched as Bruce and Selina B-lined for the officer’s desk. The redhead thought she heard Bruce’s voice speaking sternly to the local Barney Fife, unmoving from his room temperature coffee and stale donut. She could feel Selina’s skin crawl from just being near an officer, she imagined her eyes rolling into the back of her head with annoyance – the idea brining a bigger smile to Pamela’s face. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here often?”, Harley spoke with a weak smile, mimicking the woman’s line from earlier in the night. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela snorted out a laugh as she moved towards the bars to meet Harley, “</span>
  <span>Y’know</span>
  <span>, I try to avoid it, believe it or not.” She reached up to wrap her fingers around the bars. As if knowing exactly what Pamela needed, Harley took another step forward and placed her own hands on top of the woman’s. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley smiled as she lightly touched Pamela’s skin. “Pammie”, she whispered out, almost begging Pam to come closer. “Why’d </span>
  <span>ya</span>
  
  <span>hafta</span>
  <span> go an’ get thrown in here like that?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam felt Harley’s fingers tighten around her hands, still holding steadily to the bars. She looked up from her feet, meeting blue eyes with her own. They were so soft Pamela thought that for a moment, she might die.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well”, the redhead started before closing her eyes and continuing. “There was this real asshole guy... Seemed he wanted to lay claim to something that wasn’t his.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela opened her eyes and saw Harley still looking at her, her eyes glistening under the disgusting florescent lights of the police station. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And we just couldn’t have that, could we?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley leaned against the bars slightly, attempting to get as close to Pamela as humanly possible. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna get </span>
  <span>ya</span>
  
  <span>outta</span>
  <span> here, Pam-a-lamb", she smiled. “Two shakes!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, Harley was bouncing away to see what Bruce and Selina were negotiating with the local boys in blue. Pamela watched as she took long strides away from her. Her hungry eyes watched her legs, her hips, her slim frame...  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>You cannot be serious, Pamela – you are in a fucking jail cell.’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After the events of the evening, Pam had thought she’d be able to control her emotions and the way her body was drawn to the blonde woman. See, the real trouble was that, even though Pamela was locked away, metal </span>
  <span>separating</span>
  <span> the women, all she really wanted to do was put her body against Harley’s.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When Harley had rhythmically moved her hips against Pamela, she had wanted to push her against the bar right then and there. Her mind had been blitzed with the idea of bending the Harley over the wooden slab, biting down her neck and back... laying kisses on her pale skin and leaving, lovely, light bruises forming on her hips – left over from her warm mouth. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>No, the idea of Harley’s breath against her skin and her nails digging Pamela’s shoulders was not new to the woman... but the words on her lips earlier in the night had been. Drinking in Harley’s presence had left her drunk on the idea of her. The idea of worshipping Harley’s body had left her wanton in her thoughts. Even here, locked in a dark box in the corner of the police station. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“- Well, yeah, the guy disappeared after Mikey and Sam left the scene with your friend here.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The words had, thankfully, pulled her from her thoughts. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The jingle of keys came closer and Pam’s eyes snapped to Bruce, Selina and the desk officer walking up to her cell door. Harley meandered behind the group – running her fingers across the desks of officers left unoccupied. The entire visual was so, incredibly, Harley it tugged on Pamela’s heart and left the corner of her mouth pulling into a smile. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>disappeared</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, Selina asked as they meet Pamela at the bars. The small woman glanced up at Bruce, who stayed close to </span>
  <span>her.</span>
  <span> The worry was written clearly on her face. Pamela felt it, too, of course. The man appeared as fast as he left – in the dark night of Gotham and hiding amongst shadows and skeletons. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He left”, the officer stated simply as he shoved the key into the door of the cell, turning it with a loud clank. “The boys only booked her because he said he wanted to press charges, but by the time the other officers showed up to the house... well, he was gone.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He slid the door to the side. The opening to the small concrete box sat in front of Pam, ready for her to take her first steps. She clenched her fists, pain shooting up into her wrist and arm on her right. While there was relief feeling her chest – relief that she’d be going home tonight, sleeping in her own bed – there was still the lingering anger and fear of that man being out there, doing God knows what, without the police knowing anything more than a half-drunk description and a supposed first name. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As Pamela’s boot heel met the ground outside of her cell, warmth washed over her, a little moment of freedom from something she didn’t know would be coming tonight. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>If the first step out of the cell was the warmth of freedom, Harley was the fucking sun. She walked up to Pamela, looking up into her eyes, biting her lip. The only noise leaving her mouth, a simple “</span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you</span>
  </em>
  <span>”. Pam was sure she had never seen anything as beautiful as Harley under sputtering florescent bulbs, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her swollen pink bottom lip between her teeth. Pam was sure she had never felt anything as all-consuming and warm as Harley throwing her arms around her neck and pulling her down into a soft kiss. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Their lips met in a rush of liquor, chaste touches, smartass remarks and a magnetic pull so strong Pam was sure the room around them might catch fire at the sight. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley tangled her fingers through Pamela’s long hair, kissing her so softly, that the redhead was afraid if she breathed too sharply the moment might be ruined. Their lips barely moved together, but somehow the feeling was so gentle and tender Pamela felt her chest tighten. There was more behind this touch than rushed hands on skin and tongues desperately pushing together. More than hungry whimpers in a dark car, more than a secret moment in a crowded room. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela thought that maybe, for the first time, she could have both. She could have hunger, desperation and a tender touch to lean into during silent moments. Maybe, just maybe, for the first time – she could have something so soft and pure... something so sweet in her arms that it drove her wild and begged for her to touch, kiss and love with her entire being. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Selina’s voice pierced the moment like a sharp knife. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The officer cleared his throat suddenly, causing Harley to release Pamela with a small giggle. There was nothing inappropriate in their kiss, but the moment felt so private that Pam found herself flushing bright red when her eyes met Selina’s. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>get it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Put it back in your pants, ladies”, Selina grabbed Bruce’s hand and pulled him to the door. “We’re leaving now”, her words were direct but there was no rudeness in the statement, just fact. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce waved to the officer with a wide grin as Selina pulled him to the door. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks again, Frankie!”, his voice light. “Tell Gordon I said ‘hey’, okay?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Seeya, Mr. Wayne”, the officer shouted to the door before gesturing for Harley and Pamela to continue on. “Sorry about all this tonight.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam felt a small chuckle leave her chest, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Unbelievable.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No </span>
  <span>problemo</span>
  <span>, Frankie! Thanks for </span>
  <span>everythin</span>
  <span>’!”, Harley spoke for Pam before grabbing her hand and pulling her in the direction of their friends. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela wasn’t sure what she had done to end up here – what sort of weird cosmic joke the universe had played on her, but fuck, was she happy to be here right now, in this moment. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Where to, darling?”, Selina asked as they opened the four doors of her black SUV. The interior of her car was clean, slick and dark. A lot like Selina herself. Pamela took her position in the back seat, behind Selina, Harley found her spot next to her and the intimacy of their position – crammed together in the backseat of a dark car – brought memories of their first kiss flooding back to Pamela. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Home, please, Jeeves!”, Harley giggled out before pulling her phone from... </span><em><span>somewhere</span></em><span>... though, Pamela couldn’t figure out where. There wasn’t exactly a lot of excess room in her tight costume. </span> <br/>
<span>“I’m </span><span>sendin</span><span>’ </span><span>ya</span><span> the address now.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Pam cleared her throat deciding her next words carefully. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you know where I live”, she glanced at Harley. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sooooo</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Smooth, Pamela... Really.’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley reached out, lightly touching Pamela’s right hand. Still dried with blood and sensitive to touch, Pam could tell she was being soft, gentle, with her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam only nodded, saying nothing in the moment. There was no need. They had been here a thousand times in her head. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Selina needed no further instruction. The ride was quiet, the crack in Bruce’s window allowing for the cool night air to make its way into the back of the car, whipping Pam’s hair against her own face while she breathed in the cold city air. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley reached up to put the key into one of her many locks. Pamela watched as she fiddled with the keys in her hand, curious if she had done this before. It felt fresh, new. It felt like a first time for both them, in some way. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not much”, Harley finally spoke, moving onto the next lock. “But it’s home </span>
  <span>ta</span>
  <span> me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With the turn of one final key, Harley pushed the door open before intertwining her fingers into Pamela’s again. She walked into the dark room, Pamela’s hand in hers, half fumbling to find the light switch on the wall.</span>
  
</p><p><span>The small apartment illuminated as the overhead light </span><em><span>buzzed </span></em><span>on. What greeted Pamela was not what she expected, though, if she were honest, she wasn’t sure what she </span><em><span>was </span></em><span>expecting. </span> <br/>
<span>The small room shined brightly; brick walls painted white, framed movie posters hanging in rows across the wall to the left. Pamela noted most of them appeared to be classics, indicated by their particular styling, but she knew a few.  </span><em><span>Back to the Future II, Monty Python, Citizen Kane... </span></em><span>All different genres and ages. </span></p><p>
  <span>“You like movies?”, Pamela spoke as they slipped their shoes off at the door. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”, Harley looked confused for a moment before her eyes went wide. “Oh! Yeah! Love ‘em.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela made a mental note to herself:</span>
  
</p>
<ol>
<li>
<em><span>Date Night</span></em>
</li>
</ol><p>
  <em>
    <span>          a. Movie</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>           #1 Comedy – Obvious choice, safe. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>           #2 Horror – The juxtaposition of a slasher against Harley’s fun demeanor might be right up her alley. Further research will be needed.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>           #3 Romantic Comedy – Not my first choice, but... It could create a romantic atmosphere.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela was pulled from her thoughts as she felt Harley grasp her wrist gently. Her fingers against her soft skin felt like a surge of electricity pulsing through her veins. Harley urged her to follow her from the faux-foyer of the apartment. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam’s eyes made their way across the small room – a vibrant, comfortable looking couch, blankets strewn over it in a haphazard manner, some brightly colored square pillows knocked into the floor. A small stack of books laid at the corner of the coffee table; Pamela couldn’t make out what their spines said but she imagined, from their worn appearance, bright post-it notes bending out of the pages, they were textbooks. A leather recliner, cracking ever slightly from time well spent enjoying its comfortable plush. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She felt the fluffy rug under her socks, and remarked internally that the entire “</span>
  <em>
    <span>vibe” </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the room was very cozy. A sharp contrast to her normal home life. Pamela’s life had been full of stern glances, cold touches and empty homes. No, Pam hadn’t known a life of cozy rugs and warm candles, movies on in the background, pillows forgotten with blankets on sofas... She hadn’t known a home that felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>lived in, </span>
  </em>
  <span>loved</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Maybe she hadn’t known much of a “home”, after all. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The woman allowed Harley to lead her away, past the sofa and blankets, past the fun wall hangings and candles. Past the door of her bedroom – light, hollow, wood and into the private threshold of Harley’s most intimate self. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In the room sat a desk, small enough for a laptop and a cup of coffee. Across the room, a bed. The sheets left unmade, and honestly, too many pillows for one person, laid about. The window lifted just enough to allow for the cool breeze of the night air to come sweeping into the room – the slight chill made the bed look even more enticing. Or perhaps it was the night’s events finally settling deep into Pamela’s guts, shifting and making her body look for comfort. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Com’ere</span>
  <span>”, Harley’s voice was warm, loving. Pamela obliged. Following her into the adjacent bathroom to the left. If Harley kept talking to her so softly, she might follow her anywhere.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley fiddled her hand against the wall, finally finding the light and flicking it on. Pamela could feel the tile under her feet. The sensation jolted her awake, leaving her green eyes wide. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Finally releasing Pamela’s wrist from her fingers, Harley started digging under the bathroom sink. Rustling with plastic and clanking </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>under there, until finally pulling out a brown bottle and a small, red, plastic first aid kit. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Knew I had one!”, Harley smiled to herself before plopping the items onto the bathroom counter. </span> <br/>
<span>“Sit?”</span></p><p><span>“Harley, you really don’t have to -”</span> <br/>
<span>“Uh huh...Sit”, Harley’s voice was dripping in sarcasm. Pamela would, one day, admit to the woman that she found her most attractive when she gave attitude back to her. Challenged her. Their banter back and forth was a sample of their comfort with one another and something that Pam would never take lightly. </span></p><p>
  <span>The redhead did as she was told, sitting on the toilet lid next to the bathtub. Harley gathered her supplies out of the red box. A few oval cotton pads and a simple bandage wrap. Pam watched as she walked over, sitting on the edge of the tub, facing her. Harley directed Pamela, turning her towards her, their knees stacking next to each other, barely touching. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of Harley’s bare leg touching her jeans sent Pamela’s mind racing. Somehow more intimate than the night filled with provocative dancing and heavy flirting, the simple touch left her wanting more of the woman. In any way she could have her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hand, please”, Harley asked, but didn’t wait for a response, grabbing Pam’s right hand, knuckles up. The sudden contact pulled Pamela from her mind, her thoughts. The thought of taking Harley into the room next to them and shoving her against the wall right then pulled from her and replaced with feather light fingers on her skin. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The peroxide stung, bubbling up around the few sparse cuts on Pamela’s fist. The cool sensation that was left after felt satisfying, washing away Jay’s dried blood and the night’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>fun activities. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you”, Pamela found her voice coming out before her mind could figure out what the rest of the sentence should have been. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter. When she glanced up from her now clean wounds, she was only met by soft blue eye.  All of a sudden, Harley was everywhere, everything. The blonde moved in, breaking the distance between them. Shattering it with the warmth of her lips on Pamela’s. The action so quick that Pam barely realized that the hand Harley was holding her wrist and hand with was moving up her arm and slinking around the back of her neck. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela moved forward, sitting on the edge of the lid, putting herself as close to Harley as possible without falling to the floor. She moved her still stinging hand to wrap around the smaller woman’s waist. A small whimper left Harley’s mouth at the new touch. While the noise wasn’t new to Pamela’s ears, the sensation was. Soft and unhurried – finally alone. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Neither woman would probably be able to tell you who broke the kiss first, but they both pulled away, breathing heavy against each other’s lips. That’s where they stayed, foreheads touching, lips parted and breath hot. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Pam”, the words barely made it out of Harley’s mouth before being cut off by another kiss. This time on Pamela’s terms. The woman ran her hand across Harley’s waist and onto her lower back, urging her forward until their legs were intertwined. Harley brought her other arm to lay across Pamela’s shoulders, putting her fingers in her hair and pulling just enough to encourage Pam to slide her tongue across Harley’s lower lip. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The quick action brought a moan out of her mouth as she allowed Pam to slowly work her tongue across her own. Pamela couldn’t help but notice how sweet Harley’s mouth tasted, like sugar and liquor. She wondered how sweet the rest of the woman tasted. The thought practically brought her to her knees right there in the bathroom. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The fingers in her hair brought her back to reality, soaking in Harley’s taste with each movement of her tongue. The low hums of whimpers coming from Harley’s throat left warmth growing between her thighs.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela brought her mouth down to Harley’s jaw, kissing lightly across her skin. Up and around her neck, towards her ear – where she stayed, nipping at it slightly before speaking.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Harley”, her chest tightened as the words started to fade. “Can I...”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The only response from the blonde was her arms wrapping tightly around Pamela as she kissed under her ear. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Pammie”, Harley’s eyes closed tightly, her voice caught in her throat. “Take me to bed.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela didn’t need to be told twice. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>If Pamela had to describe Harley to a stranger, she might start with the obvious – blonde hair, occasional pigtails, faded Wal-Mart dye at the ends. Tattoos, a lot more than she even originally thought. Some hidden well under her clothes, others more obvious to prying eyes. She might even describe her attitude, bubbling and sweet. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>If Pamela were asked to describe Harley in private, to an empty room, left with just her thoughts - the words would be different. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She might start by describing how Harley’s hair, bright and blonde, made her feel warm all over as it tickled her skin. She may even say that the younger woman’s laugh got her drunk as it echoed close to her ear when she nuzzled into her neck. Pamela might even describe how laying Harley down on that bed for the first time felt like an out of body experience, full of needy whimpers and moans, scratches and whispers of “harder” and “please”. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>If you asked Pamela when she knew she was in love, she might recall this moment later in life. No matter how early it was, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how many ghosts Harley hid. She may say that there was never a moment of realization, a moment of knowing - it just was. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela walked slowly with Harley back to her room, sitting her down on the bed. The air thick with tension, their kisses slow and wanton despite knowing just where they were headed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Harley’s bed, full of fluffy blankets, too many pillows and an adorable, small and fat, stuffed shark. Pamela would later learn his name – Jeff – but tonight wasn’t that night, as he, along with a few extra pillows, soon found their way to the floor. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With Harley laid flat on the bed, still clad in her outfit from the night, it was hard to not get lost in her. Knees bent up, together, showing off perfect thighs and those </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>knee-high socks. Her thumb between her teeth as she playfully giggled. There was some innocence to Harley, something that made her feel like she wasn’t good enough to be here with her in the moment. It was enough to drive Pamela insane. Harley's shorts rode so high on her legs, Pamela wondered what her skin might feel like under hers.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers moved slow, down the woman’s knee, her thigh, and up the cloth of her shorts where she rested her hand, delicately, against Harley’s hipbone. Her finger tips playing gently on the edge of exposed skin and fabric. The action pulled a small gasp from Harley’s lips, biting down on her thumb, this time involuntarily. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela took her cue, climbing on top of Harley, straddling her hips, knees on either side of her hips. She kissed Harley slowly, surely. Letting her hands explore the cool skin of her stomach, taking in each dip of her toned body.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A small giggle escaped Harley’s lips, smiling against Pam’s mouth, lost in a kiss that, in the moment, meant more than the winding road they were headed down. There was more than desperation here, there was bliss. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela moved her mouth down Harley’s neck and collarbone, smiling against pale skin between open-mouthed kisses and small, tender bites. Pam felt Harley wiggling under her, moaning lightly against her touch, subconsciously seeking more. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her moans only grow loader as Pamela bit down on the skin in the bend of Harley’s neck, sucking it into her mouth, rolling her tongue over the flesh in between her teeth. Legs started to writhe with each gasp, tangling Pamela up, pulling her closer. Suddenly Pam’s knee was between Harley’s legs, wanting </span>
  <span>desperately</span>
  <span> to give her everything she needed and more. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A quiet </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop </span>
  </em>
  <span>filled the air as Pamela released Harley’s skin from her mouth, a bruise already forming on her neck. Pamela never left marks; she knew better most of the time – but here, in Harley’s bed, Jay’s face under her fist just hours previously – it felt right.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The action was not to claim Harley as anything, not to say she was hers now, but to give her a small example of how love and pain, could often go hand-in-hand without </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley whimpered as the cold air hit where Pam’s lips were just moments earlier. Her eyes flooded with hunger, looking up at Pamela. Her arms snaked around her body once again, lightly scratching her nails down her back before moving them down to her jeans. Pamela closed her eyes against Harley’s touch. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela moved her face closer to Harley’s, red hair curtaining around them before biting her lip – looking right into those hungry blue eyes. She felt fingers grab her belt loops on either side of her hips before pulling. Tugging her hips down to meet the blonde’s. The intention clear. Harley’s eyes didn’t move from hers. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela let a husky laugh escape her lips, a smirk dancing across her mouth. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t you ever heard ‘patience is a virtue’, baby?”, her voice came out low, sensual and dripping in lust.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never been good at </span>
  <span>waitin</span>
  <span>’”, Harley answered quietly, truthfully, biting down on her lip. Even if honest, it wouldn’t stop Pam from exploring her body slowly, taking her time with her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam leaned down and closed the distance between them, slowly running her tongue over Harley’s bottom lip, her mouth open, breathing heavy on her. Harley opened her mouth against Pamela’s.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>-”, Harley wasn’t able to finish her thought. Pam grabbed her bottom lip in her teeth, pulling gently. The act was merciless – the effect washing over Harley immediately. A low moan escaped her before the blonde pushed her hips up and into Pamela, slowly lingering there. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela moved her hands up Harley’s jersey, urging the woman below her to raise up. Harley consented to the action, raising up and allowing Pam to slip the shirt over her blonde ponytail. Her mouth went dry at the sight. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela had always known Harley was drop dead gorgeous. She had known it since the first day she saw her, from the moment Harley had been on top of her on the sidewalk and from the second she slipped her that note in class. To see the woman laid out in front of her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just for her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was a completely different experience, however. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her tattooed skin played perfectly under the moonlight shining through the window into the bedroom. It left Pamela aching; her lower stomach tight. Harley was relentless in her beauty, in her actions. Pamela swallowed hard, her throat closing, as Harley pushed her hips against Pamela’s thigh, whimpering quietly. This time Pamela couldn’t help but push back, adjusting herself to better straddle her before grinding herself into the woman’s center. Even through her jeans, she wondered if Harley could feel how wet she was in that moment. It was Pamela who moaned into the quiet room this time. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was a blur of kisses, low gasps and exploring hands and yet somehow, Pam found herself standing next to the bed, shirt off, pants sliding past her hips while blue eyes lit her on fire. Pam reached down, grabbing Harley’s hips and pulling her to the edge of the bed and wrapping her legs around her waist all at once. In a final move, Pamela kicked her jeans and socks off, pushing them away on the floor. Her heart threatened to explode as Harley reached up, dragging her nails across Pam’s stomach and pulling her into her. Pamela took the hint, this time knowing that, without the barrier of denim, Harley would know exactly what she did to her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela had never hated a pair of shorts as much as she hated the ones on Harley’s body at that moment, pushing herself against the woman under her in a rhythmic motion – she needed to feel her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As if reading her mind, Harley unwrapped herself from Pamela, sliding further back onto the bed before lifting her hips off of the mattress and sliding her shorts down to her thighs. An action Pamela could not stand to let Harley finish on her own. Pam found herself again, climbing onto the bed and gently running her fingers over Harley’s, still gripping her shorts.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela helped her pull off her shorts, one foot at a time, then her socks. Those </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>socks. Truly, that must have been what pushed their night over the edge. It was sinful at best. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere Pamela had slipped her fingers to unclasp Harley’s bra, wherever that was in the frenzy of moments fell wherever Harley had apparently found the time to take hers, as well. Skin on skin had never felt so right to Pamela, she was sure of that. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela continued her onslaught of kisses. This time venturing further – down Harley’s chest. She could feel the woman’s skin grow hot underneath her. The heat unmistakable as she kissed over her breasts, licking hardened nipples and lightly nipping across her perfect skin. Pam felt Harley’s fingers in her hair again. Encouraged, she slipped her lips around her now hardened nipple, sucking softly. She felt her head being pushed down, her name escaping from Harley’s mouth. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She needed to hear more of it. She reached up, toying with the woman’s other breast with her hand. Rolling her flesh between her fingers and squeezing. Harley’s moans made her feel high. Light headed and wet. She never wanted to hear anyone else say her name again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her knee found itself between Harley’s legs again, this time pushing into her, not just waiting. Harley pushed back and Pamela could feel her against her leg, wet and hot. Just the idea made her moan, her mouth still around Harley’s skin. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela kissed down Harley’s breasts again, this time moving to her ribs, her stomach. Taking in each black line and scar. Placing her lips on each one, taking her time to appreciate the art laid upon her skin and the scars of a past she wants to, one day, know everything about. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her hand finds Harley’s underwear, lacing her long fingers into the hem and tracing the lines of her ‘Lucky You’ tattoo peeking from under the cotton. Pamela can hear Harley’s breath hitch, holding it in her throat and her back starting to arch off of the bed. Every breath urged Pam forward. Her fingers ran from hip bone to hip bone, teasing Harley under the waistband of her underwear. Every movement pushed Pam’s soft fingers further down until two fingers teased Harley’s soaking entrance. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela didn’t dare move at first, simply taking in the sight laid beneath her. Harley’s lips dry and slightly parted. One arm bent over her eyes, the other gripping the sheets under her. Pamela wanted the image burnt into her brain. She never wanted to forget this moment. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes unwavering, watched Harley’s mouth as she moved her index finger down into her wetness. Hot and sleek. Pamela heard the moan leave her lips too late, the sound causing Harley to bite her own lip before removing her arm from her face. Her pale face flushed; ponytail splayed out on her pillow – Pamela looked into her eyes, moving her finger against Harley again, this time lingering on her clit. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s mouth opened wide as she pushed her head back, arching her throat up. Pamela moved her mouth quickly to the skin there, running her lips against her neck with an open mouth. She circled Harley’s clit slowly, with a steady touch. The woman moving under her was undoubtedly the most satisfying she’d ever seen. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley wrapped her arm around Pam, pulling their bodies together, placing chaste kisses on her face and ear, her hair, whispering sweet things as Pamela moved her hand in between her thighs. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Baby”, Pamela whispered out, fearing she’d break the moment. Harley’s response was a subtle whimper – Pam felt her own wetness pool between her legs. “</span><em><span>Fuck</span></em><span>. You’re </span><em><span>so </span></em><span>wet.” </span> <br/>
<span>A deeper moan escaped the blonde. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Pammie -”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela continued tracing slow circles with her fingers, occasionally running her slick clit between her two fingers and getting dangerously close to thrusting her fingers even deeper...</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s hips moved on their own, pushing against Pamela’s hand, desperate for more. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela read her body language so fluidly she didn’t even need to ask Harley to use her words. She slowly slid her fingers away from the apex of Harley’s thighs. The lack of contact suddenly making it clear to Pam how badly she needed to be inside of Harley. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A groan left Harley, “Pam, where’d </span>
  <span>ya</span>
  <span> go?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela moved up Harley’s body, kissing her slowly, sweetly, taking in every moment with the woman.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, </span>
  <span>Harls</span>
  <span>”, she smiled against her lips. “We’re just getting started, baby.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, Pamela’s fingers were moving Harley’s underwear down her hips. Again, Harley lifted her hips, allowing her to discard them to the floor. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela adjusted herself to straddle Harley’s thigh, one hand moving to her cup her face, running her thumb over her bottom lip. Pam wasn’t sure if Harley knew how sexy she was, if she knew how well she commanded a room, if she had any idea how crazy she made her. As if reading her thoughts, Harley swiftly took Pamela’s thumb between her lips, sucking on her fingertip, wrapping her tongue around it. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The redhead found herself slinging her head back and pushing herself into Harley’s thigh, her wet underwear making contact with her tattooed skin. She pushed her thumb further into Harley’s mouth, eliciting a deep moan from the blonde. She pushed harder against her leg as her hot tongue moved against the skin of her finger. Harley’s hand found Pam’s hipbone, pinching down, encouraging to keep grinding into her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With a wet sound, Pamela removed her thumb from Harley’s lips, sliding it down her chin, neck, chest and stomach. She lowered herself to kiss the blonde again, instead leaving her lips lingering against hers, breathing her in. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam’s fingers slinked back down between Harley’s legs. Finding her just as wet as she left her. As their flesh made contact, Pamela placed an innocent kiss on Harley’s lips. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She moved her fingers past her swollen clit. The feeling of warmth returning to her fingers. </span>
  
</p><p><span>Harley sighed contently before speaking, “Pammie”. </span> <br/>
<span>A whisper against Pamela’s lips. “</span><em><span>Please</span></em><span>.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Pam placed a soft kiss on the corner of Harley’s mouth, slipping one finger into her while simultaneously rubbing herself against Harley’s leg again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of being inside of Harleen sent Pamela’s mind into another world. She had never experienced anything quite like the feeling of being deep inside of the woman. Harley gasped suddenly against Pamela’s face. The redhead responded with another deep kiss, her tongue moving quickly into Harley’s mouth. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Another finger pushed into Harley and Pamela thought her heart was going to push out of her chest cavity right there on the girl’s bed.  The sensation overwhelmed Pam’s senses - Harley moaning into her mouth as she worked her tongue against hers, as she pushed her fingers deeply into her as slowly as possible. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela raised up away from Harley’s face to take observe the woman pushing her hips against her hand. It was too much. Pamela felt like she might cum from the sight. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Harley, you’re so tight”, she closed her eyes and pushed her two fingers further before grazing Harleen’s clit with her thumb. Harley’s response was lost in her uttering Pamela’s name over and over again. A whisper between her red lips, “Good girl”, in response to the sound of her name on Harley’s lips.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me taste you, baby”, Pamela wasn’t sure who was talking, but it couldn’t have been her. Sure, it sounded like her, but the words were laced in such confidence it made her think that perhaps she had become possessed by someone else. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley grabbed for Pamela hastily, as if she had some the magic words she had been waiting on. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“God, please”, Harley grabbed her by the back of the head, pulling her into a deep kiss before pulling away. Pamela grinned widely, feeling a slight tug on her hair, pushing her towards Harley’s skin. She followed the lead, leaning her head down and kissing down Harley’s neck again, observing her hard work from earlier – a sharp bruise left on her skin. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In an almost painfully slow endeavor, Pamela had reached Harley’s hips. Nipping slowly at her tattoo and tracing the lettering with her tongue. Harley’s hand never left her hair, pulling slightly as she wiggled underneath Pam. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela moved down, kissing down creamy hipbones and pulling the sensitive skin of her inner thigh tenderly with her teeth. She idlily moved her lips to the skin above Harley’s entrance, above her wet clit. The first contact left the butterflies in her stomach to their own devices as Harley gasped loudly. She kissed further down, placing a light kiss on her center, feeling the heat under her lips brought a deep moan out of her mouth. Harley’s body started to move under her, a response to her kiss and to the vibration of the moan leaving her lips. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>All at once, Pamela pushed her tongue against Harley and licking upward, her tongue enjoying the feeling of Harleen's hard clit pushing back. Harley’s lips parted, a moan escaping her, louder than the ones before. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, Pam heard the words as Harley’s hand gripped her hair. Another moan against Harley caused her to pull harder on red hair. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela moved her mouth expertly against Harley, taking in every bit of her wetness that she could. She felt warmth coating her lips and chin – the taste so sweet she wanted to get lost in it forever. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s hips left the mattress, both hands in Pam’s hair now, pulling her close, wanting her tongue as deep inside of her as possible. Pamela was happy to give her what she wanted, alternating between long strokes with her hot tongue and sucking on her hard clit. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The intensity of the moment was not lost on Pamela, especially as Harley panted out for more, begging even. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I... need you”, Pamela swept her tongue slowly, listening for the next command. “Please, Pam – I need you inside of me.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela’s thighs were soaked by the words. She moved her body up to meet Harley’s face again – wetness glistening on her lips. Her fingers took her mouths place, pushing inside of her, two at once and as deep as she could. Harley wasted no time pulling Pamela’s mouth to hers, riding her fingers hurriedly, whimpering and begging between salty kisses. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela felt her walls tighten around her fingers, as she thrust, hooking her upward. She relished in Harley’s orgasm, kissing her face, the corners of her mouth, her lips, her jaw. Faint pet names being spoken against high-pitched whines as she came crashing down, flat on the bed and beautiful. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pam didn’t move her fingers from inside of Harley for a moment – she stayed there, laying her head on Harley’s chest, listening to her speedy heartbeat and heavy breath. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Pammie... I - “ </span> <br/>
<span>“I know, baby.”</span></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pamela fell asleep there, in Harley’s bed, surrounded by fluffy blankets and her arms wrapped around the petite woman. For the first time in a long time, Pamela slept soundly with no alarm set for the next day. Just the promise of a warm kiss from a woman she might love. </span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>after creeping on my ship forever, i finally decided to contribute. i hope y'all enjoy!~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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